


A School Like Whitemore Needs Losers Like Them

by Lonelyballoon



Series: A School Like Whitemore [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AND DRAMA, AND SPELLING ERRORS, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bisexual Richie Tozier, Boarding School, Co Written, F/M, Fire, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, I want to tag things but I don’t want spoilerssssss, Lets just appreciate their friendship tho, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Minor OCD, OH BOY THE SPELLING ERRORS, Panic Attacks, SO, Slow Burn, Teenage Losers Club (IT), There’s a lot, You Have Been Warned, because we can, everyone loves each other but hates each other too, fire warning, i cannot stress how long it will take until they kiss, it will take lightyears, like very very slow burn, no one dies but i thought i should still tag it yanno, so buckle up, some good friendships, there will be five fics, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-07-25 15:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 193,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonelyballoon/pseuds/Lonelyballoon
Summary: Seven totally different people, Richie, Mike, Bill, Stan, Ben, Beverly and Eddie, are sent on the tracks to Whitemore Towers, a boarding school none of them really want to go to. But no one is expecting the things Whitemore has in store for them, and in all honesty, Whitemore wasn’t expecting them either.~Boarding school losers club AU~





	1. A Start

**Author's Note:**

> !Disclaimers!  
>  1\. This is the first chapter, so we had to get some key things out of the way, hence why there’s quite a lot happening. The chapters after this one will hopefully run more smoothly and will probably be written slightly differently.  
> 2\. There are two people who have written this. Emma (me) who’s written seven parts, and my amazing friend Alice, who’s also written seven parts. We’ve worked hard over a seires of weeks to plan and put this together, and we hope you enjoy!  
> 3\. The relationships tagged are slow burns, so it will take a while before the actually have a relationship status. Also, some relationships that will happen are not currently tagged, but may be later. If you’re here for just romance, please remember that, while characters might interact romantically, dating etc won’t happen for a while.  
> 4.This has already gone on for a while lol but because its about their years at this boarding school, we’ll write a AU for each year, so five in total. We’ll probably make a series for each year.  
> 5\. This is mostly about the friendship of the losers and the massive amount of drama that goes down at Whitemore. It’s loosely based off “The twins at St Claris” but the storyline is quite different and took a lot of planning. Please enjoy...!

**S eptember 6th, Train Station.**

** Stan Uris  **

Stan Uris powered through the crowds of school kids who were bustling their way to the train. He couldn’t be late on his first day and embarrass himself like that, could he? _No_ he thought, although who really cared if he’s honest with himself.

A bunch of kids are blocking the path way, from what looks like someone’s water bottle leaking in there bag.  
  
_Unprepared idiots._

  
He hated waiting. In fact, he despised it. After about 2 minutes of impatient waiting, Stan pushed past them and carried on walking in his flourishing temper. He would have to do enough waiting for a train so waiting for unorganised school kids did not appeal.

He finally was insight of the platform where he had to be and slowed down a little with a small sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to be late. Stan halted to a stop when he came across a small, out of place, retro cafe. He thought about it for a second. Should he get a coffee or not? To be or not to be?

_Stan there is NO reason for quoting Shakespeare right now!_

he yelled in his head, sort of confused as to why he knows Shakespeare. He shrugged off his worrying thoughts and strolled in, noticing a boy, sitting alone. Stan thought about introducing himself and hopefully making a friend he could sit next to on the train, but then thoughts like:

_What if you get in deep conversation and miss the train?_

_What if he doesn’t like you?_

_What if?_  
What if?  
What if!

Kept popping into his head, so he decides to just buy a coffee and hope that he doesn’t get a cold invested, stinky, rude asshole next to him. Yes, he did feel mean about it but risking being embarrassed? No. Besides, he might be able to make friends there, he hoped.

 

** Ben Hanscom **

Ben Hanscom was lonely.

He was in a café full of chatter and laughter and he was lonely.

His mum drove him to the train station about half an hour before now, and he had wandered into a small café after a while. It was pushed into the side and looked oddly out of place. The inside was bright and happy, with round wooden tables and framed landscapes. They had obviously gone for a retro style. When Ben had first walked in, only one table was occupied. But it was a while later, and more people had filled in, none alone, sitting at tables and talking loudly.

It was like that emptiness had taken over completely.

The anger he had been feeling earlier, the small sadness, it was an empty void now. He just felt lonely.

The bell by the door tingled lightly and Ben turned to see a boy who looked almost as alone as he felt walk in.

Maybe if Ben was brave he would introduced himself. Say that his name was Ben and that he was very pleased to meet you and maybe we can sit on the train together. But Ben Hanscom had decided ages ago that he wasn’t brave.

The boy ordered a coffee then left.

The girls on the table nearest Ben burst out in sudden laughter, and Ben crouched into himself. Why did his mum think sending away was a good idea? He could of survived back in Derry. Things were far from perfect there but they were better than this. Better than being an nobody.

Well, It wasn’t like he was anyone anyway. No one really noticed Ben Hanscom.

He squashed the top of his cupcake between his thumb and index finger, crumbs falling onto the plate. He’d lost his appetite. In fact, he was starting to wonder if he had one today. Like he had woken up and all sense of hunger had just strolled out of his body and walked away.

Ben sighed, taking a decent sized bite off his cupcake, then picking up the small plate and bringing it up to the rack near the counter, where you were meant to put your used plates.

“You done already?” Someone asked while Ben was slipping his plate into the rack, and he turned around to see a young waiter, smiling at him politely. She had light brown hair in a ponytail and kind hazel eyes.

“Yeah.” Ben said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m uh, too nervous to eat.”

The waiter’s smiled widened slightly, and Ben thought it looked more genuine.

“Boarding school.” She said, nodding. “I recognise the uniform.”

Ben didn’t really know what to say, and he realised last minute that he was still holding his plate. He blushed, and pushed the plate into the rack, distantly wondering if he had crumbs around his mouth.

“Yeah.” Ben replied, begging to whatever God’s were out there that his voice didn’t sound forced. “First year.”

The waiter tilted her head slightly. “It’s not so bad. You’ll get use to it, I’m sure, and the students are kind once you get to know them.”

Ben wiped his arm over him mouth. “You went there?”

“For two years. I was probably more worried than you, mind.”

She smiled once again, and Ben smiled back.

“The train will set off soon, so you should probably get going. Good luck.” She said, turning and walking behind the counter.

Ben opened his mouth to call a goodbye, thought better of it, and started towards the door. He left the café, walking back onto the busy platform. The door shut gently behind him and Ben looked around.

Everyone he could see was wearing uniform, running around the platform and shouting loudly. People were wearing straw hats and some were holding lacrosse sticks. Ben felt like he was watching everything through a window. Like he was there but he wasn’t.

This wasn’t a good idea.

Suddenly a whistle blew, signalling that the train was leaving in 5 minuets and to ‘board now if you haven’t already’. A cheer went up from the people on the station, but Ben thought they were probably cheering for a different reason than he would of. He moved the doors, trying his best not to bump into people. He reached the line to one of the doors, and just as the first person stepped in, Ben noticed a boy, probably his age, running to the train. Ben had a moment to think that the boy had just got here on time when he was climbing up the steps and onto the train.

 

** Bill Denbrough  **

Bill Denbrough hated buses. End of. Case closed. They always stunk, or were too hot or too cold. You could guarantee you would have to sit next to someone who is clearly high or drunk. And Bill had to go through all those things just because his parents wouldn’t drive him to the train station.

_If they really cared about my health and education, then they wouldn’t have sent me on one of these janked up buses_

Bill thought angrily to himself. All this talk of “You’re going to have to have to get used to buses Bill” bullshit from his parents made no sense.

Do they even know how boarding schools work?

Eventually, the bus pulled up to its assigned stop and a few people got off, including Bill.

“Thank you.” He said politely, not sure why he’s thanking a fucked up piece of transport, but he feels sorry for the driver for having to drive it, so that gave him a valid reason. He walks into the station and sees that it’s pretty much empty with only the train about to shut its doors. He checks his watch.

“Shit!” He whisper/yelled and sprinted to the closest door he could find which was still open and leaped into the train. He leaned against the carriage wall and turned around to see ham packed seats of girls.

“Um boy what are you doing here? This is the girls carriage.” A random girl said to him, hushing the chatter.

“Oh shi- uh s-s-s-sorry i’ll g-go.” Bill said, embarrassed and turned to walk down the corridor.

“B-b-Bye boy.” The same girl imitated and everyone burst into a fit of laughter. Bill knew fully well that he was going to get bullied for his stutter, but he couldn’t let himself be bothered by it or “he’ll never succeed” as his dad says.

He reached the end of the corridor and with a sigh of relief he saw it was the boys carriage and luckily swiped an empty seat below a window.  
It had been around 16 minutes into the journey according to Bill’s watch and he was already bored out of his mind.

Then a boy, who was quite tall and had oversized glasses walked past with a smirk on his face. He looked at one of the boys and said, “nice booty shorts.” And laughed.

“Shut it jerk.” The other boy retorted. Bill hid a small smile to himself and just thought:  
  
_How in hell am I going to survive this year?_

 

**Mike Hanlon**

Mike didn’t know.

He really didn’t. He just sat there, in the carriage, all alone. Wondering how many other people were just unsure.

He sat in the middle of all the seats, just eating a sandwich, not really focusing. Except on the fact he is half an hour early and barely anybody is in the train yet.

He sees birds soaring through the air, effortlessly flapping their feathered wings, almost as if they were floating on water. He couldn’t help it, Mike loved animals and was devastated when he was forced to go to this hell hole.

Lost in thought, Mike hardly notices that a few other people had entered his carriage. He must have been thinking a lot longer than he thought.

Annoyed chatter floated into the air and he realised that he was sitting right in the middle of, what he thought was, a friendship group.  
“Oh! Sorry i’ll um move.” He says while awkwardly shoving the rest of his sandwich down his throat and hustles over to a seat in the corner, near a window.

He sees the rest of the people bustling their way onto the train, a few people getting coffees in a little retro cafe opposite, some sitting, some standing, but they all looked happy. This confused Mike a lot. Going to school? Happy? That equals no.

Mike debated just to move to a different carriage all together. He thought he was just intruding the whole friendship group.  
“Hey can my friend sit there?” A boy asked. Should he? Should he just let himself be bossed around? No. People can’t just tell him what to do. Mike knew he had over thought this entirely, but he wanted to set his mark down.  
“Sorry this is my assigned carriage and space so it can’t be his unless someone else is in the wrong place.” Mike replied, more confident than expected. The boy just rolled his eyes and muttered something to his friend.

Great, first enemy made.

He thought, but he didn’t let this bother him too much, it can’t have been like the most popular first former could it? Right? Mike Hanlon was wrong. And little did he know, he was in for a interesting experience once he had entered Whitmore Towers.

 

** Richie Tozier  **

Richie didn’t want to be here.

Not on a train, and certainly not one that was heading to a boarding school.

But as things were, he was on a train. And it was going to a boarding school. And he didn’t have a choice.

The carriage he was sitting in had 7 other people (two were squashed at the side) and a number of bags.

He was going to speak soon, of course he was, but at that moment, Richie was quiet. The people on his carriage had been talking since the train had set off, and their conversations were filled talk of with merry holidays on the beach large family homes.

Richie had spent his holiday in his room, fuming at his parents as his parents fumed at him.

There were a few nights where he snuck out, but otherwise he just had him, his thoughts, and his music.

It was dull, to say the least, but Richie couldn’t make himself care. And it didn’t matter anyway, did it? He had done what he had done and here he was. One way ticket to Hell, Rich.

He sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. Every time he was quiet he would think about the summer. Summer and his old school. And

( _And your old friends_ )

how he’d got the blame for something that he hadn’t intended to do. Not really.

“Darren you HAVE to try for the lacrosse team!” The blond girl yelled suddenly, looking at the dark-haired boy.

Richie perked up. He had never played lacrosse before, but was required to bring a lacrosse stick, something he had wrinkled his nose in disgust at, but was now slightly curious.

He had a basic idea of how’d you play, but if there were really teams, he’d would need to get his act together. Richie Tozier was not a loser.

The talk in his carriage continued, and Richie fiddled with his tie impatiently.

“Is the train ride very long?” Richie asked, trying to sound loud, but for the first time he didn’t really want to.

The talk stopped almost  
immediately, and Richie thought that he had probably fucked up. Again.

“A few hours.” A girl with wavy black hair replied, no emotion in her voice.

“Right.” Richie said. “And um… How long have we been driving?”

The girl raised her eyebrows and the boy next to her whispered something in her ear. “15 minuets.”

Richie could of groaned. Instead he thanked her, slid the door of the carriage open, and walked out, searching his pocket for a spear cigaret.

He really didn’t want to be here. On this train going to a boarding school that he wasn’t going to fit in at. But his parents were forcing him. Saying how they “Couldn’t deal with his behaviour anymore” and that a “Fresh start will be good”.

Richie leaned against the wall. He hadn’t told his parents everything because Richie Tozier didn’t really know the words. He’d never been amazingly behaved, yelling and name calling. But it was his friends leaving him, telling him that they found him annoying and that he needed to shut up sometimes. It was them that pushed Richie, and made him act so badly that his school had expelled him. Pretty fucking useless too, considering there was only a week left. So instead of normal school, Richie was off to Whitmore Towers.

But a part of Richie did want to start over. Be someone different. Or actually be himself this time. Breathe a bit easier maybe. He would try, Try and be better. Possibly.  
Not that he would tell anyone that. He’d just, be him. The not annoying, actually fun to be around him. If that was even him.

Richie didn’t know  
anymore.

He gave up looking for a cigaret and made his was down the train, searching for a bathroom.

He passed a girl on his way down, a girl with short wavy hair, a beautiful Cooper shade. She was by an open window and a lit cigaret was hanging from her fingers.

“Hey, can I borrow a cigaret?” Richie asked, trying to sound polite. “I haven’t got any.” He turned his pockets out, hoping she’d believe him.

The girl turned to meet his eyes, and Richie could tell she was trying to sum him up.

“I just ran out.” She said apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Richie said, and the girl gave a nod before turning back to look out the window.

_Maybe they could be friends. Maybe Richie wasn’t a total jerk. Maybe he could be himself._

Richie walked on.

He passed one more person, a boy with brown hair and hazel eyes. He was the only person Richie had seen who wasn’t in uniform. Instead he was wearing a bright yellow t-shirt and extremely short red shorts.

“Nice booty shorts!” Richie said as they passed.

“Shut it, jerk.” The boy replied, barly looking up.

Right.

 

**Beverly Marsh**

Beverly hopped onto her assigned carriage and found a space by the window. She stared out of it, telling herself

_New year, new start, no obsessive dads._

Don’t get me wrong, she loves her dad, just as much as anyone loves their dads, but her dad has a funny way of showing it.

She stares around looking at the clusters of girls, talking about whatever girls talk about. All laughing and greeting their fellow friends. Beverly sighs a little, hoping she will make friend groups and so on.

_Not if they are all like this though_

she thought. Beverly hated fake people. Why try to be someone else and get friends when you can be yourself and find real friends. It just didn’t make sense to her.

She scanned the masses of train tracks all leading to a different place, all leading to a different adventure. After a while, Beverly took out a cigarette and heard a few scoffs from other girls while she lighted it. She took no notice and pulled the cigarette to her mouth and slipping out the carriage, moving along the corridor before opening a window.

Sooner or later the train set off and a few squeals were heard from excitement.

_How the hell is anyone excited about going to a hell hole called school?_

she questiond. Disrupted from her thoughts, a guy around her age with big glasses comes up to her and asks,

“Hey, can I use a cigarette?” Obviously trying to sound polite. “I haven’t got any.” He says while pulling out his pockets’ insides, proving he had none.

Beverly shook her head, meeting the boy’s eyes and said:  
“I just ran out, sorry.”

“Oh, it’s ok.” He replied and Beverly gave him a small nod before he started walking away.

_Maybe we could be friends?  
Maybe I won’t be as alone as I thought I would be? If only I could just keep a conversation going!_

She cursed herself angrily. She saw half the girls scoff at the fact a boy had just walked passed, and half of them with heart eyes staring after him.

_Well one thing I know for sure is that this year is going to get very interesting and very annoying, fast._

 

** Eddie Kaspbrak  **

Eddie didn’t care. He really didn’t. He didn’t care about the mother he left

(How could you Eddie? How could you!)

at home. He didn’t care about the medication

(They’re placebos! They’re fake, Ma!)

that weren’t in his bag. He didn’t even care about the school that he

(You’ll hate it, Eddie! And they’ll hate you! You can’t go, Eddie, you can’t leave, you can’t-)

was travelling to.

He just didn’t. Full stop.

His head was pressed  
against the glass window, blurs of old summer flashing by. The people in the carriage around him were talking happily, and part of Eddie wanted to join in the conversation. But a bigger part kept his mouth shut, and he told himself that they’d probably dislike him anyway.

He would need to get in his uniform soon. He hadn’t put it on in fear of scaring his mother, so he pulled on anything he could find instead.

Eddie let himself get lost in the rhythm of the train’s movement.

He’d always liked trains. He was drawn to them, for some reason he couldn’t quite explain. Or didn’t want to explain. Either way, trains carried a sort of longing with them. The way they’d almost glide on their tracks, heading somewhere . But he never really thought he’d go on one.

And now he was actually sitting on one, he... he didn’t know what he felt.

His heart was beating faster than normal, admittedly. He felt tired from yesterday, from everything that was said (or yelled) and done. But he also felt excited. Like he was making his way not just to a boarding school but to freedom. Away from everything that had held him back and shaped him into someone who wasn’t Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie turned away from the window and he looked back at the carriage he was sitting in.The tiny room he was in had racks above the seats and the people in the carriage had lugged their bags up there. One boys lacrosse stick had fallen down when the trains started, and whacked the other boy opposite him.

Eddie could barely contain his laughter.

But that was the most interesting thing that had happened so far, and they’d be driving for ten minutes at least.

Eddie let his eyes trail over the people in his carriage. None of them look particularly inviting. Maybe He would make some new friends

(Eddie, you know what friends do? They trick you, Eddiebear, they use you, they lie to you! They’ll hurt you!)

when he actually arrived at Whitmore.

The boy with blond hair who was sitting next to Eddie pulled a ‘Moxie’ can out of his bag and popped it open. The sound seemed to trigger something in Eddie, and he was suddenly aware of how dry his throat was.

“Is there a-?” Eddie began, but his quiet voice got lost in the chatter of the other boys.

“Um, is there anywhere to get food here?” Eddie asked, a little louder this time.

The dark haired boy opposite turned at his voice. “Just down the train.”

“Oh...uh, thanks.” Eddie said, and the boy smiled, before turning back towards his friends.

Eddie clumsily stood up, and stepped over the boys feet. He slide the door open and walked out of the carriage.

(They won’t like you anyway, Eddie!)

What if someone approached him?

What if someone laughed at him?

What if someone talked to him?

And what if they didn’t like him? No way would Eddie let a bunch of assholes make fun of him. Not on his watch, not on anyone’s watch.

Eddie walked down the corridor, passing carriages on his way down.

He walked past and open carriage, and a boy with curly hair and coke bottle glasses walked past him.  
“Nice booty shorts!”

“Shut it, jerk.” Eddie snapped quickly, not bothering to look up at. He heard a snicker from the open carriage.

The train ran smoothly, so it wasn’t a problem walking. The train was made up of 6 larger carriages, with smaller ones inside, a corridor in between. Eddie had gotten on at carriage point A, and had passed through carriage point B. He was at the door separating B and C, and slipped through it.

He walked quickly, but because of how narrow the corridors were, he bumped in a girl by the window.

“Hey!” She yelled.  
Eddie cringed inwardly. Of course he would annoy someone. Of course.

“I’m sorry-“ Eddie began, but the coppered haired girl sighed, cutting him off

“It’s fine.” She said, but Eddie heard the tiredness underneath it. She dropped her cigarette out of the top window and pulled it closed.

Something seemed to snap in place in Eddie’s mind.  
“Hey, you’re Beverly, aren’t you?”

The girl’s head whipped around. “What?”

“You went to my old school. I saw you a few times.”

Beverly sighed in relief and nodded. “That’s me. Except you probably knew me as the ‘slut’.”

Eddie’s thought back to all the rumours at his old school, all the things people said, all the lies people

(“They’ll lie Eddie!”)

told.

“Then you probably knew me as the wheezy boy.” Eddie replied seriously. There was a moment of silence then the both burst out laughing.

Eddie had heard of Beverly. She was in the other side of the year to him, but rumours never ceased, and Eddie had caught some of the things people would say. He knew what his mum would think. But standing in front of her now, laughing along with her now, Eddie thought that she couldn’t be that bad. Beside, she was the only person on the train who was being even the smallest bit nice to him.

Beverly leaned against the window. “Eddie Kaspbrak, worst case of asthma the school had ever seen.”  
She grinned kindly at him and Eddie smiled back, but something pulled at him.

(Placebos)

“That’s kind of why I’m here.” He said carefully.

Beverly tilted her head.

“What do you mean?” She asked gently.

“I uh-“ Eddie felt nervous now. He hadn’t told anyone about what had happened that summer. Not that he had anyone to tell. The thought of opening up was scary, crossing through a door like Eddie had crossed through the carriages.

But Beverly was different.

“My mum lied to me. Said I was sick and what-have-you. Gave me a bunch of pills and…,well, they were fake.”

“Oh.” Beverly said softly.

“That’s not all of it. She had been giving me medication since I was little, and I couldn’t stay in that house any longer.”

Eddie breathed out, not realising that he had been holding his breath. A giant weight left his shoulders, and Eddie felt like he could cry. That wasn’t all of it, but Eddie didn’t think even he understood the rest. Not why he’d kept his inhaler out of all things, not understanding his mothers reasoning, but he’d told someone.

Beverly was looking at him with a mixture of sorrow and... understanding?

“I get you.” She said, shifting so she was looking out the window. “Similar thing with me but-“ she stopped, and Eddie knew what she was trying to say even if she couldn’t say it.

“Well.” Beverly said again, and gave Eddie a small smile. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Eddie said. “See  
you around Beverly.”

Beverly opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Just call me Bev. Or slut. Whatever you want.”

Eddie laughed. “See you Bev.” He said, and She smiled before walking away.

Eddie decided that he quite liked Bev Marsh.

 

**Station near Whitemore, later that day**

**Richie Tozier**

The train screeched to a stop, making everybody yelp and reach to cover their ears. They could at least make these things better quality, Richie thought, they want us to actually be able to hear the teachers teach, right?

They all got there luggage from the back compartments and then headed for the train doors. Once Richie had nearly tripped and fell off the train, he looked around and saw a massive building with four grey, dull towers and at the peaks of them were little flags. Richie, guessing, thought these would determine whether you were going to be in a shit tower or a decent tower.

Richie had no clue where he was going. He was just weaving in and out of people, having a look at them to see what he had to put up with for the next year. One boy in particular caught his eye, he seemed to know where he was going, so he caught up to him.

“Hey, Do you have any idea where we are heading to?” Richie said, aiming to not scare the guy off.

“Not really I’m just trying to remember what the leaflet said when I decided to join here.” The boy said, eyes fluttering up slightly to take a look at Richie.

“Mind if I tag along? I actually have no clue so since you have half a clue then I’m going to rely on you.” Richie chuckled lightly.

“Wait are you the one who commented on my shorts in the train?” He asked, Richie couldn’t read the boy’s expression.

_Shit_

“Oh, right yeah sorry about that, but hey, they were nice.” Richie shrugged and laughed it off. He saw the boy just roll his eyes and look away. Richie being Richie, tried to change the subject and lighten the mood. “So uh, what is your name then?”

“My name?” Richie nodded. “Oh, my name is Eddie Kaspbrak. How about yours?” Eddie continued the conversation.

“Richie Tozier, pleasure to meet ya me ol’ fellow.” Richie elbowed Eddie playfully with a British accent. Eddie stared at Richie, a little disturbed. Maybe just a tad amused? Richie couldn’t read emotions to save his life.

“Sorry I-“ Richie got cut off.

“No, that was hilarious, it wasn’t exactly a good accent, but hilarious.” Eddie snorted and that made them both laugh. Richie had liked Eddie Kaspbrak, whether it was one sided, or they both thought of each other as friends, he new that he wouldn’t be totally alone this term. Hopefully.

“Settle down, settle down!” The headmistress said, hushing the rowdy school kids. “My name is Mrs Wilson and I am your head mistress, after I put you into your form groups, you will come to see me in my office at half past two. Now then, your form groups, you will stay in these groups for the rest of the year unless you wish to change because someone is unsettling you. Got that?” She said sternly. Richie and the rest nodded in unison and carried on listening out for their names to be called into their new forms.

“Richie Tozier? You are with Mrs Henderson this year.” Richie jumped out of his bored trance and got up to walk over to, who is apparently the youngest form tutor here, (even though she still looks no younger than forty) Mrs Henderson. Richie walked to the back of the line they were made to stand in and waited for his next instruction.

An half an hour later everybody was in their assigned lines and Mrs Wilson spoke up.  
“Now as you probably guessed, the dormitories are gender separated because of those reasons that we hopefully do not need to explain.”

“Funny of you to assume I’m straight.” Richie joked under his breath, luckily nobody heard and Mrs Wilson just carried on rambling to everyone who clearly didn’t care. Richie smiled to himself. They were split into two groups of five and one group of 6 because there was one person to many to perfectly split the form into three groups.

“Here is your map,” Mrs Henderson handed them all a map which had little annotated notes outside the classrooms and towers. “You will go find matron first and then you will follow the route of the map to the heads office at two thirty, understand?” Mrs Henderson ordered and left to go help other form tutors who can’t handle kids.

“Right,” a girl named Patricia said, with leadership in her voice. “So… This way.” Patrica said, looking up and walking down the corridor. They all fell into order and followed Patrica until they were passing dormitories.

Hey, Patrica-“ A guy called Eric called to the front of the line.

“Call me Patty.”

“Oh.” Eric said. “Well, um, Patty I think we took a wrong turn.”

The group made their way back the way they came, Richie slightly away from everyone.

“Who wants to knock?” Patty asked.

“Why can’t you?” A girl, who he thought was called Greta, asked.

“Because.” Patty said, becoming red.

Another girl named Emily, sighed. “Someone knock.”

“You knock then!” Patty said, and Greta and one more called Chloe shook their heads.

One of them three.” Greta said, tilting her head towards A copper coloured haired girl called Beverly, Eric and Richie.

“The door won’t bite.” Richie said, getting annoyed. Seriously, can they knock already?

“We know.” Greta said.

“Then knock.” Richie replied. Greta had started to annoy Richie quite a lot already, which was not at all useful since they would be sharing a form for the rest of the year. At least they were different genders.

“I’ll do it.” Beverly said, before anyone could say something else. She stepped forward and hammered gently on the door, before turning back around to face her group.

“Didn’t bite, did it?” Eric asked, and Beverly laughed slightly.

How does he make it so easy?  
Richie thought and stepped back.

“Come in.” A deep voice called, and Beverly pushed it open.

 

** Bill Denbrough **

"These are the tennis courts, then.” Audra Phillips said, looking to from the piece of paper in her hands.

Bill followed her gaze to the sets of courts, all of them empty apart for the net stretched out.

“Do you want a closer look or should we move on...?” Audra asked the group, her deep red hair blowing in the wind.

She had taken lead of the group as soon as Mrs Henderson had given her the mapped out school plan, and Bill admired her confidence. She was the only person who’d kept up continuous speech, and Bill found it somewhat helpful. He’d be able to get around easier, anyway.

The other people in his group seemed okay. The skinny boy with brown hair was Eddie, and he held himself with an air of dignity and an expression which said “ _fuck with me and I’ll rip your face off_.”

A chubby, shy face boy was also a part of their group, looking at everything with interest, who Bill thought was Ben.

Buffy, permed blond hair and dark eyes, was also a member of the group, and Bill noticed her odd sighs and constant eyerolls.

Then there was Bill. Bill Denbrough. Bill Denbrough who had spoken the minimum. Bill Denbrough who had isolated himself from the group. Bill Denbrough who didn’t even want to be here.

“I guess it’s the...” Audra began, squinting at the map. “Ummm.” She trailed off, looking blankly up at the group.

“Do you want me to look?” Ben spoke up, a louder voice than Bill had expected.

Audra shrugged, and stepped over to Ben, hanging the map over.

Ben scanned it, the rest of the group waiting patiently. Then;

“I think it’s this way.”

So off they went, a line of students heading down the slopping ground towards wherever the map was going to lead them. Blind faith.

The reached the top of the hill and Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, here’s the pool.”

Bill stumbled forward and looked.

The hill slopped down, meeting the sea edge. There were rocks gathered at the sea too. And carved seeming perfectly into this, was a pool.

Bill heard someone gasp. The sea was reflecting calmly, little waves splashing over the rock side and into the pool.

“I sure hope we get to swim here.” Buffy commented.

“That’s normally what pools are for.” Eddie said quietly, but Bill thought he sounded hopeful.

“The tide must re fill it and empty it.” Ben said dreamily.

Bill had to admit, it was stunning, a diamond in the rocks.

“Right well...” Audra said, coming to her senses first.  
“Should we...?”

“Right.” Ben said, looking up at them all. “Anything you want to see?”

Bill looked back down at the glistening pool, then back up at Ben. In truth, Bill wouldn’t mind look around outside more. But the idea that this place was growing on his seemed scary, so he shook his head.

“To the classrooms then.” Ben commented, and led the way back across the lush grass and inside the stone building, that Bill wasn’t sure about.

The walked through and were meet with a arrangement of posters and lists, all hanging on the wall.

“This looks... interesting.” Audra said.

“It looks more boring that the train ride here, and that’s an accomplishment.” Eddie said, talking out loud for the first time since the tour started.

Bill snorted and Buffy clicked her tongue.

Ben started off around the corner and the group followed.

“You d-d-don’t sound to pleased to be h-here.” Bill said to Eddie quietly, walking a bit slower.

Eddie looked up at him and laughed lowly. “Honestly, I’m not sure.” He said.

“How come?” Bill asked.

“Well, it was my choice to come here.” Eddie said calmly, and Bill’s eyes widened in surprise. Eddie’s attitude so far, though it wasn’t rude, definitely seemed distant.

“Wu-Why?” Bill asked, not unkindly.

“It’s uh... it’s a long story.” Eddie said, avoiding eye contact. “But I thought I’d hate it. And I do, in a way, but it’s not awful.”

“Oh.” Bill said. “I mean, I was kinda f-f-forced here but, it i-i-isn’t what I imagined.”

Eddie nodded to show he understood.

They both looked up to see where they were, but saw Ben looking uncertainly down at the map.

Bill suddenly realised that they weren’t near classrooms, like they were meant to be, but near a empty hall instead.

_Fuck_.

 

** Beverly Marsh **

Beverly Marsh is her own person. She knows that.

Her father had told her that one evening after school when she was five.

He had been helping her read a book, one about a girl with long blond hair escaping from a witch. It was unbelievably simple, but to her it seemed almost impossible. Still, she had spluttered out the words and her father and cheered and she had felt so proud.

She reached the end and then grinned up her father, and he had hugged her ruffly.

“You’re a good girl, Bev.” He’d said in a low voice. “And one day you’ll be able to read hundreds of book.”

Beverly squirmed to look into his eyes. “Really?” She has asked, hundred seeming like an infinite number.

“Yes. You could even write one too, if you felt like it.”

Beverly’s mind had sparked with imagination. She felt herself get excited, then she remembered what everyone else in her class said.

“Readings boring.” Beverly said sadly.

“Who said that?” Her father asked, gripped her arms.

“When Mr Mine said we had to read for homework, Marcy said that reading was boring, and no one will read my book if reading is boring.”

She had been unable to understand opinions back then, and thought of someone’s thoughts as facts.

“Beverly.” Her father had said, and looking into her eyes. “You are your own person. You got that?”

She had nodded, only partly understanding what that meant, but understanding enough.

Whenever she came into school wearing oversized jumpers and ugly pleated skits and the other girls had laughed, she would tell herself that she was her own person. Whenever they had to pick groups in p.e, and Beverly was one of last to be picked, she’d tell herself she was her own person. Whenever she did something that other people mocked or laughed at or disapproved of, she’d tell herself that she was Bev Marsh and she was her own person.

And she told herself this now, standing in a group of people dressed in the uniform she was also in, clustered outside the headmistress’s office.

She was her own person.

“Here’s your map.” Mrs Henderson said, handing a piece of paper to a tanned skin haired girl.

Beverly had been set into a group of five others. They’d been organised then sent to the headmistress and now they were going to make their way around the school according to the map.

Beverly could just remember their names. The one holding the map was Patrica. Behind her, looking at everything with a stand offish look, was a girl called Greta. Behind her stood a tall boy going by the name of Eric. Emily was standing next to him, long blond hair falling past her shoulders. Slightly away from the group was a messy haired boy with huge glasses who Beverly remembered as Richie.

Beverly Marsh stood alone.

“You’ll visit Matron first.” Mrs Henderson told then strictly. “Then you’ll follow the route on the map. You got that?”

Beverly didn’t mind Mrs Henderson. She had been nice to them so far, but Beverly supposed she wouldn’t stand much nonsence.

“So… This way.” Patrica said, looking up and walking down the corridor. They all fell into order and followed Patrica until they were passing dormitories.

Beverly didn’t pay much attention to where they were walking, lost in and out of day dream.

“Hey, Patrica-“ Eric called to the front of the line, grabbing Beverly’s attention.

“Call me Patty.”

“Oh.” Eric said. “Well, um, Patty I think we took a wrong turn.”

And so they had. The 6 turned and walked up a staircase until they were outside Matron”s door a good 10 minuets later than they should of been.

“Who wants to knock?” Patty asked.

“Why can’t you?” Greta said.

“Because.” Patty said, blushing slightly.

Emily sighed. “Someone knock.”

“You knock then!” Patty said, and Greta and Chloe shook their heads.

“One of them three.” Greta said, tilting her head towards Beverly, Eric and Richie.

“The door won’t bite.” Richie said, speaking for the first time.

“We know.” Greta said, as though it was obvious.

“Then knock.” Richie replied.

“I’ll do it.” Beverly said, before anyone could say something else. She stepped forward and hammered gently on the door, before turning back around to face her group.

“Didn’t bite, did it?” Eric asked, and Beverly laughed slightly. Richie stepped back.

“Come in.” A deep voice called, and Beverly pushed it open.

The room the 6 walked into was cramped with shelfs stuffed with fabric. A sewing machine was propped on a stall and a white door was at the back of the room.

“You’re late.” Matron commented, and when they failed to replied she sighed and looked up.

“Let me introduce myself.” She said, standing up from her desk. She was a big, beefy lady who currently had her brown hair in a bun. “I’m the Matron in Whitmore towers, which means I run the sick bay. If you ever fell ill, come here straight away. And I will know if you’re faking it.”

Emily sniffed behind Beverly.

“If you rip something, then you’re required to fix it yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Greta asked, and everyone turned to look at her. “At my old school, someone would fix it for me!”

“Tragic.” Matron said stiffly, and Beverly tried to hid a giggle, Patty doing the same behind her.

“You wear uniform on weekdays, bring it her to be washed Friday evening and collected it Sunday morning. Please make sure all your clothes are labelled. On Saturday and Sunday, you wear your own clothes.”

She looked at them, and Beverly didn’t know if they were meant to thank her or leave.

Things didn’t sound so bad. Better than her old school, and bigger too, so if she needed some alone time she could fine some space. And maybe the kids here weren’t completely crap. Eddie was nice and sweet, and Beverly felt bad for him in a way. She’d seen him around her old school a few times. Always alone, head down. But he’d been nice to her. And he was in her half, North tower, so maybe they could be friends.

Friends.

“Any questions?” Matron asked, and Greta put up her hand.

“You said we collect our uniform after it’s been washed, but at my old school-“

“Well this ins’t your old school, Greta Bowie, so you should stop treating it as such.” Matron replied coolly, and Beverly smiled.

“If thats all, you can leave now.”

They trudged out, and Eric shut the door behind then.

“Do you thing Greta expects us to be severed hand and foot?” A low voice said behind Beverly, and she turned to see Richie Tozier grinning at her.

“Probably.’ Beverly agreed and Richie laughed.

“Pees rose water, right?” He said, stepped next to her. He was the same height as her, maybe slightly taller, and Beverly understood in that moment that he was trying to be nice.

Trying to make friends.

“Yeah. Hey, you’re Richie, right.” She asked.

“That’s my name.” He said, and Beverly could of sworn he looked sad for a second. But then it passed and he look carefree again. “What’s your name? I’m shit at remembering.”

You are your own person.

Beverly Marsh.

“I’m Bev Marsh.”

 

** Stanley Uris **

As it was, Stan had never had friends.

And he’d never thought about it either. Never spent anytime wondering and worrying about it, never wasting time. They just weren’t there, a small empty gap in his life.

His parents cared more than Stan had, and maybe that should of sent a signal off there and then, but it didn’t. Stan took it as them caring. And he supposed they were, but he still didn’t agree what they did.

But that doesn’t matter now. Stan hadn’t had any friends, and he had never wanted any friends. He was fine by himself, alright by himself, he was surviving and he was doing that alone and he would continue to live alone. Even more alone than he once was.

But, as Stan was walking along in the line he’d been put into, a part of him wanted to talk to someone, walk next to them, even laugh with them. It was weird.

Not that he was going to.

“Down here!” Blake called suddenly, and Stan could of rolled his eyes because it was pretty obvious where they were meant to be going.

Blake had taken open charge of the group as soon as he got handed the map. There were four other people in Stan’s group, two boys; Blake and Mike, and two girls, Alison and Chloe.

He had been put in North tower, along with a few other people. West and South tower had left with their tutor, leaving North and East tower. Then they had been mixed into groups, and that’s where Stan was now, towards the back of a line looking around classrooms.

There wasn’t a purpose to this, as far as Stan could see, but he supposed he’d know his way around better.

“Must say, it’s not as big as I expected.” Blake spoke from the front, and Stan heard someone groan.

“Do you think the other side is bigger?” Alison asked, strawberry-blond hair falling down her shoulders as she peered into the class room.

The school was split into two halves. One had the classrooms for East and North tower, the other half for South and West tower. Stan thought they’d be pretty even.

“Why, I sure hope not.” Blake said indignantly, and Stan looked around the door along with Alison.

It was big enough, he guessed. There was a series of desks with a large blackboard at the front. There were three windows on the side, overlooking the lush grounds, and Stan wondering what he’d be learning in here.

“Pretty sure they’re the same size.” Chloe said, and Stan turned around. “My cousin went here, she’s told me a lot.”

Stan wanted to ask Chloe about what she was told, to ask her questions and get answers, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Right well, I think it’s this way.” Blake said, looking ahead of him and marching off.

“Jesus.” Chloe muttered, and followed along.

Stan was in front of Mike and behind Alison. They trailed along the corridor, deep in silence. Stan felt like it was an endless tunnel.

“Do you know the time?” The boy behind Stan, Mike, asked.

Stan turned around and saw a shy look on the boys face.

“Uhh No. Sorry.” Stan said, and realised distantly that this was an opportunity. To talk to someone. And-

“They um... they look alright.” Mike said, referring to the classrooms.

“Yeah, I guess.” Stan replied, searching his brain desperately for something interesting to say. He smiled, hoping it would seem welcoming.

Mike stepped forward so he was next to Stan and offered him a small smile in return.

“It’s better than my old school anyway.” Stan continued, grasping for any conversation starter he could think of.

“Oh?” Mike asked, and Stan saw it as an opportunity.

“Yeah.” He said, smiling a little. “The desks were so wobbly you could hardly write. And the blackboards were messy as hell.”

Mike laughed, and Stan did too. His shoulders relaxed and he felt like a door somewhere inside him had opened.

“I worked on a farm for most my life.” Mike said, “So I didn’t go to school much. But when I was there, it sucked big time. That’s um... that’s kinda the reason I’m here, actually.”

“Really?” Stan asked.

“Yeah.” Mike continued, looking at the walls now. “My parents said I wasn’t getting a good education so they sent me here.” He looked slightly sad, but Stan was shocked at how calm and open Mike was being about it.

“Same for me.” Stan said quietly. He didn’t know why, but something about Mike made him want to open up. “I uh... I was sick a lot, when I was younger, so I was behind a grade and my parents just thought-“

“It would be better if you came here.” Mike finished.

Stan looked up and met Mike’s eyes. He understood in that moment that he and Mike had a lot in common. He also understood that he liked Mike, and he thought that maybe Mike liked him too. Maybe he could have a friend.

“I’m Mike Hanlon.” Mike said. “You probably already knew that, but in case you didn’t.” He offered a sheepish smile, and Stan smiled back.

“I’m Stan Uris.” Stan said, and he thought that maybe they were friends now.

“This room looks like shit.” Blake complained from the front.

 

** Ben Hanscom **

“Guys, I think we’re lost.” Buffy states worryingly. Ben took out an, already scrunched, piece of map and had another look.

“U-u-understatement of the year.” Bill muttered under his breath.

“Well if you’re so sure then why did you not tell us we took a wrong turn?” Buffy snapped, making deadly eye contact with Bill. Ben scanned the corridors, trying to make recognition of what was on his map.

“Probably doesn’t help if you have the map upside down.” Audra pointed out, but soon regretted because Buffy soon shot her daggers through eye contact.

“It’s this way,” Ben spoke up while pointing down the hallway, “well, that’s what the map says.” They all fell in behind Ben and turned right down a small corridor with a few posters of tennis matches and lacrosse games on the walls.

“I wonder if we get picked for any games this year.” Buffy suggested while tracing her fingers across the walls. Eddie shivered

“Do you realise how many germs could be on that wall that are now on your finger?!” Eddie asked, hands twitching. Ben sort of agreed with Eddie to some extent but decided to stay out of the conversation and continued walking.

“The guy does have a voice.” Audra sniggered and Buffy laughed along. Bill gave Eddie a friendly smile and gave him the look of ‘don’t listen to them’. Ben smiled to himself. At least not all of his group was annoying and unkind.

They reached the end of the corridor and turned left once again and this time, they were greeted with three rooms.

“Which room is Mrs Wilson’s then?” Bill speaks up and walked to Ben to take a look at the map.

“Um, this one?” Ben suggested while walking to the second door down.

“Let’s knock and see.” Buffy strolled forward and knocked loudly. There was no reply for a few short moments but then they heard a voice.

“Come in?” It was Mrs Wilkins’. Ben was confused as to why she sounded confused but brushed it off and followed everyone through the door. “What are you doing here?”

“You told us to come here.” Audra spoke with surprising confidence.

“Yes, at half past two, it is only one thirty.” She spoke with amusement. Eddie started breathing a lot heavier and a lot faster than what Ben thought as was normal. He looked over to see him fumbling in his small backpack and pulled out an inhaler. Ben and Bill quickly shot up and helped Eddie and asking him if he was ok, Mrs Wilkins told them to sit down and she went over and crouched down to Eddie.

“Are you Alright? Do I need to call Matron?” She asked soothingly and Eddie shook his head, starting to calm down slightly. “Well, it doesn’t matter your early, we’ll just do it now.”

After a few minutes of sorting out all of what they needed to do, they were soon allowed to go and eat some lunch. Ben led them back to the hallway and they all split into their separate ways, all bar two. Ben didn’t exactly know where to go or what to do, but he thought as well to sit down and just start eating. If eating was a sport in the Olympics, Ben would for sure come gold every time. He enjoyed eating a lot.

A couple minutes later, he noticed that Eddie had sat down next to him,  
“Hey.” Ben greeted and Eddie waved back, smiling slightly.

“Hi, mind if I sit here? I can’t find the guy I met earlier but I know you so..” he asked awkwardly. Ben smiled.

“Of course, I mean, I don’t exactly have anyone else either.” Ben chuckled lightly and carried on eating the last of his sandwich. Ben looked around the hall. He saw a few people alone, a few people just sitting in pairs, and a lot more in groups.

Suddenly, Eddie stood up and waved to a guy with big bottle glasses and messy hair. He ushered him to come over and Eddie looked at Ben.

“You can go, i’ll be fine.” Ben reassured, who would want to stay with him?

“No, I was about to ask if you wanted to sit with me and Richie.” Eddie smiled genuinely and Ben didn’t really know what to say since he’s never had the offer so he just nodded and started to follow Eddie to his friend, Richie.

“Richie, Ben. Ben, Richie.” Eddie greeted quietly while pulling out the seat next to Richie to sit down. They all talked for a while, the odd laugh, Ben sometimes caught the odd smile exchanged between Eddie and Richie but shrugged it off and told himself that this is how friends act around each other. Ben didn’t really know much about friends anyway, so he wasn’t one to judge.

“So Ben, what school did you go to before this?” Richie asked with curiosity, after talking about his school. Ben didn’t really know what to say, he couldn’t say that his school had been in the newspapers because it had terrible hygiene levels and that it was dangerous. He couldn’t say that it was the only school he could afford at the time because his family had broken apart when he was young and it took all this time to get back, roughly, on track. So, instead, he says,

“Oh, uh you wouldn’t know it, it’s not a popular school.” That last part was most definitely true though.

“Oh. Oh well, anyway did you know that...” Richie carried on with another conversation and the back and forth chat between them all pleased Ben.

Maybe Ben Hanscom wouldn’t be as lonely as he thought this year...

 

  **Eddie Kaspbrak**

This feeling of having people around him, chatting and laughing with him, not at him? This was a feeling he never wanted to go away. Whether it was just feeling overwhelmed or if he ate a dodgy piece of sandwich? He didn’t know. Perhaps both? But whatever he wished for, or had which he enjoyed, goes away with the snap of a finger.

The bell went. Ruining it all just like that. The bell was a signal to go back to there assigned groups and they were then told what was to happen next. They all stood up quickly and said goodbye to Richie and Eddie followed Ben to where they were supposed to go. Eddie trusted Ben with map following, since he got them back on track after getting lost earlier.

their group was order into the common room.

“Ok children, what you are to do next is wait on the top formers. As being first formers, this is your job until you are in third form. If you refuse to do the their chores, you find your self in detention, as it will be seen as a lack of respect to the older ones, understand?” Mrs Wilson ordered before leaving the groaning kids who were waiting for there first job.

_Oh hell no, I don’t think so_  Eddie scowled to himself.

He shouldn’t have to do six former chores just because they are lazy, and besides, shouldn’t they be cleaning themselves since they would have to live by themselves soon anyway.

Who’s going to wait on you then? Your pets?

Eddie hadn’t realised Bill was nudging him on the arm, bringing him back to earth.

“E-e-eddie? You ok? A top former has just s-sent you to them first.” Bill said calmly, hoping some of his calmness would transfer into Eddie. It didn’t.

“Why should I have to wait on them!” Eddie yelled, “Don’t they know how to do chores them selves? If anything they should be waiting on us.” Sudden bursts of anger came out of eddies mouth and it left the rest of his group quite stunned, considering he barely spoke earlier. Eddie drew in long, deep breaths, trying to calm down.

He soon got up without another word and stormed down the corridor to where the sixth form common room was.

“Ok right let’s get this over with.” Eddie muttered to himself before pushing the heavy door open, revealing lazing teenagers sprawled across sofas. This angered Eddie even more. Surely they should be studying already for up coming exams they have. Eddie certainly would anyway.

“Ah, Eddie Kaspbrak right? I would like you to scrub some of the used dishes and boil up the kettle for some tea please” a boy said with an annoying British accent and ushered Eddie over to the sink. “Oh, my name is Joesph by the way.”

Eddie just ignored him, for he was afraid if he spoke or even made slight eye contact with him then he would explode at him there and then. Thankfully, it didn’t take him too long before he could return back downstairs to his group.

“Thanks Eddie, see you tomorrow.” Joesph called from the room. Eddie couldn’t contain himself.

“Tomorrow?! You mean I have to come back here again tomorrow?!” Eddie yelled in horror.

“Yep, your with me for the rest of the year I’m afraid.” Joesph smiled and Eddie pulled out his fakest of fake smiles until he was out of sight. This expression was quickly replaced by a stormy one. Once Eddie reached his group, he thought he could actually smell the steam that might have been coming out of his ears, the others seemed to have noticed too.

“You can punish me all you want, you can even pin me down and drag me to them, but no way in HELL am I going back there, I’m not doing one single bit more of work for that British bastard!” Eddie fired at no one in particular, just for anyone who was listening. Everybody looked completely astonished from what had just came out of the tiny form of humanity that was Eddie.

This annoyed Eddie to the brim. He knew people underestimated him because he was small and puny and always had an aspirator handy. Well surprise assholes, you’ve just witnessed Eddie Kaspbrak in all his worth.

He sprinted into the nearest bathroom and just sat there, trying to regain his calm composure. Sooner or later he heard footsteps enter the bathroom and heard a voice.

“Eddie? L-l-look, I know y-y-your in there, and everyone is a-asking if your ok so I came to check on you.” Bill asked in a friendly tone. Eddie didn’t speak he just shuffled on his spot, waiting for Bill’s next response.

“Besides, it’s n-not that bad-“ Bill got but off by Eddie.

“Not that bad?” He slammed open the door, silently hoping it didn’t hit Bill. “I’ve had to slave away for my mother all my life and so I sent myself here. Of course we argued and all but in the end I just left. At first I didn’t think it was so bad here but to come and do something I thought I would no longer have to do again has been laid back down on my shoulders, and now I just wanna to leave.

“Not to home, not to any place I know. I just want to escape from it all!” Eddie finally finished, almost in tears.

“It’s o-ok.” Bill hugged Eddie, “things are gonna get b-b-better, you just need to persevere on these things.” Eddie smiled.

And there was the feeling again, the feeling which he wasn’t sure if it was food poisoning or something. But now he knew. This feeling? The feeling he enjoyed so much?

It was happiness.

 

** Mike Hanlon  **

Mike understood what people meant when they said “I have butterflies”.

He understood they didn’t mean it literally, as in they have pet butterflies or something stupid like that.

He knew they meant they have a odd fluttery feeling in their stomach, like butterflies were there.

And Mike had never felt that feeling as much as he was feeling it down. A whole zoo could be down their.

His group were making their way slowly to North tower. Stan was next to him, head down and hands in his pockets. Mike guessed Stan felt pretty nervous too. They’d been sent to meet outside their tower, and Mike thought they were going to get placed into their dorms and meet the other people in their year, but doubt set in Mike none the less.

Because what if no one liked him?

Stan sniffed loudly.

Evening was creeping over them, hallways apparently getting dimmer and dimmer with each step. Mike could hardly believe how fast the day had gone. It was like someone had clicked their fingers and make time go faster.

And Mike didn’t know if that was good or bad. In fact, he didn’t know if this whole thing was good or bad.

Stan was good. Stan was nice to Mike and had stuck with Mike most of the day. And that gave Mike some sense of reassurance.

The group collectively turned a corner and saw a gaggle of people standing outside what Mike was sure was North tower.

It looked only enough people for one group, so they’d have to do some waiting.

Mrs Henderson was there, clipboard in hand. When Mike’s group had arrived she took their names and marked them down.

The last group came, bigger than the others by one person, and after Mrs Henderson had taken the register, she cleared her throat.

“Right.” She said loudly. “Now you’re all here, I want to congratulate you on surviving your first day.”

A small cheer went up, and the tension ceased a little.

“Now, may we please form two lines; on of girls and another of the boys.”

There was some shuffling, and Mike edged his way around, Stan close behind him.

Two lines were formed, and Mike found himself in front of Stan and behind some boy with gingery brown hair.

Mike scanned the lines. There was only sixteen of them together, with didn’t seem much. He turned to Stan and said this.

“Well, less people the better your education is, I guess.” Stan said, looking over at the girls line. “I suppose we’ll be split into two or three classes, for some things. Or maybe we’ll stay with North tower.”

“Mmm.” Mike hummed, showing he agreed.

Mrs Henderson clapped her hands, and the sound died down.

“Girls, your dormitory is in East tower, Boys yours is in North. Your dormitories will be where you sleep and where you can stay in between and after lessons if you wish, though the common room is generally there for that.

“Saturdays and Sundays are none working days, so feel free to visit town. Don’t fall behind on work or you’ll have to answer to me. No midnight feasts or sleepovers and please respect each other.”

She finished, and Mike tried to process everything.

“Now we’ve got that over with, please make your way to your dorms. Girls, follow me, boys, yours is up the stairs. Your luggage should be there already”

Mrs Henderson led the girls away, and the boys made their way up to their dorm in silence.

The boy in lead pushed the door open and one by one they entered their new home.

It was big. There were eight beds, four on each side and they had curtains around them, to be open and closed at their will. There was a separate room that Mike supposed was the bathroom. Each bed had a small table next to it and there was a large fireplace at the end of the room.

“Home sweet home.” The brown haired boy muttered, then moved to the centre of the room to find his luggage.

“Do you suppose we pick our beds?” Stan asked Mike as everyone them collected their belongings.

“I guess.” Mike replied. “Quick, let’s get one close to each other.”

Stan nodded, and the two made their way over to the pile of luggage.

Mike found his small bag and his case of clothes and essentials easily, and dragged them over to the bed at the end.

Stan followed suit, dumping his stuff on the bed next to Mike.

Gradually, everyone picked a bed and had found their luggage. Matron can around ten minuets after and told them lights out was soon, and to get ready to sleep.

Mike looked around at everyone, some piling up at the bathroom door, some flinging suitcases open and thought that this year was going to be more interesting than he thought.

Boy, was he right. 


	2. Don’t Stop Believin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took ages, we had to figure the plot out, but here’s chapter two!  
> Most of this is the dynamics between characters and starting friendships etc, but a lot will go down in either chapter 3 or 4.  
> This also isn’t as long as the last chapter, as there are less parts. Me and Alice hope you enjoy!

**September the 7th, Whitemore Towers**

**Beverly Marsh**

A loud bang sound woke Beverly up with a start.

“The hell was that?” She mumbled, wiping her tired eyes.

The bed she’d chosen to sleep in was more comfortable than her bed at home, but she had been to anxious about the next day to rest well.

And now it was the next day. Around her, her dorm was waking up slowly, searching for the source of the noise.

“Guess that’s the alarm.” Chloe said, before yawning into her hand.

“Why does the alarm sound like a elephant crashing through the whole f-ing dormitory?” Beverly said, grumpy in the morning light.

Buffy was getting out of her bed, followed by Alison and Patty.

Beverly grumbled to herself, then rolled of the bed, struggling to keep upright.

Greta sat up in her bed, hair in a messy bun. “Let me take a wild guess, we have to make the beds, right.”

“You air them, but someone else makes them I think.” Patty answered, having obviously paid more attention yesterday.

Greta gave a over dramatic sigh, then got up and made a giant scene of pulling back her bed covers.

Audra and Emily got up too, and the eight girls all pulled their uniform out from their mini wardrobes.

Beverly grabbed hers, then stood on her bed and drew the curtains around. She heard others doing the same.

 _First_ _day_ _of_ _actually_ _boarding_ _school_. _You_ _can_ _do_ _this._

She was worried, of course, but she wasn’t going to let that show. And it was normal to be worried. But she’d make it through today, and not only would she make it through but she’d make it through well.

She got changed quickly, then pulled the curtains open. Patty was also dressed, while the rest took their time. 

“Nervous?” Patty asked her, barely looking up.

“I guess.” Beverly replied. Patty gave a high pitched laugh.

The dormitory also had a door, leading into a small bathroom. There had been a mad rush for it last night, but now it was empty. Beverly grabbed her night bag from her bedside table, then slipped into the bathroom.

She brushed her hair, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror. Her curls bounced back up after she’d ran the brush through her short hair. Short, short hair. This time, not long ago, she’d been looking at herself in a mirror, and she’d been crying. And she’d been cutting. 

But that was then and this is now.

And right now, Beverly Marsh was at a school. A school where she wasn’t someone she’s not. At a school with a whole new story, one she wasn’t about to fuck up.

She could do this. 

Bev Marsh tucked the hair brush back into her bag and left the bathroom.

Almost immediately after she walked out, Greta ran in. Everyone else was dressed now, and were either pulling their sheets back or brushing their hair while sitting elegantly on the floor.

“What now?” Audra asked, red hair cascading down her shoulders.

“Breakfast, I assume.” Allison said, pulling her hair up in a ponytail. “But I’m not sure where we go or anything.”

“Let’s try and find our way.” Patty suggested, and everyone nodded in agreement.

Once Greta was out of the bathroom, the eight made their way out of the dormitory and down the stairs of East Tower.

“Girls!” A loud voice called, the girls collectively jumped around.

At the top of the stairs stood a top former, the head of East tower, Beverly though, and she was looking down at them.

“You know where you’re going?” She asked, not unkindly.

“Uh, yeah.” Aura said, voice loud and confident. “Dining hall. For breakfast.”

The top former nodded, and Beverly remembered that her name was Jessie.

“You know the way?” Jessie asked, and Audra shook her head.

“We’ll find the way. 

“If you’re sure.” Jessie said, then disappeared up the stairs.

“So... where now?”

Beverly bit her lip. She tried to think back to yesterday, but her and Richie had been messing around almost all of the tour, and she couldn’t remember much after Matron. Thinking of Richie, she hoped she’d be able to sit with them at breakfast (if they ever got there). She really didn’t want to sit at a table with her dorm mates.

“It’s this way.” Alison said, pointing right.

“You remember that?” Audra asked.

“It’s the way North tower is, and there was a stairway in between.” 

Audra shrugged, then let the group right, turning and walking down a large staircase. They were met with large, wood doors.

“There it is.” Audra said, voice high. 

Beverly took a deep breath. She wasn’t scared. She wouldn’t be scared.

“Let’s go.” She said, stepping forward and swinging the door open. 

There were met with a loud dim. People were chatting loudly, most sitting, some in a line for food.

“Ah, girls.”

The rest of East tower were crowed round Beverly, and they all turned towards Mrs Henderson. 

“You’ve made it, I see.” She said kindly. “Now, the hall is split into different groups. Far side is top years, and that side is younger years.” She pointed down at a cluster of tables, half full. “West and South Tower to the right, North and East at the left. You can change if you wish, but this is just how it tends to be. Now, go eat!”

The girls thanked her, then headed towards the line. 

“At least we don’t have to make the food.” Greta mumbled.

Beverly went near the back of the line, and grabbed a tray from the rack. Patty was in front, her dark hair in a messy bun.

Beverly scanned the hall. The top formers looked intimidating, like they were in a different room to the hall completely. They were laughing, and Beverly thought how at home they looked.

She looked towards the front, hoping to see Richie or even Eddie. They had both been nice to her, and Beverly thought how good it felt to laugh with someone.

“Beverly, move up!” A voice behind her hissed, and she realised it was her turn to get food.

She stepped up, meeting a kind looking woman serving food. 

“Toast or porridge, dear?” 

Beverly asked for toast, then got a glass of orange juice from a man near the end. 

She walked away, tray clutched in her hands. Audra and Chloe were already at a table, laughing happily. She looked around, and quickly saw Richie’s messy hair. He was sitting on a table with two other boys, and there was a empty seat next to him. 

Beverly made her way over. “Hey.” She said quietly, shocked at how shy she felt.

“Why, Bevvie!” Richie all but screamed, eyes bright behind his glasses. “You shall not wander like that, you had me worried! I had to look after the babies, Oh Bev, how could you leave? How could-“

“We get the picture, Richie.” A kind faced boy said, smiling sheepishly up at Beverly.

She laughed, the sat down.

“Guys, this is Beverly.” Richie started, but a gingered haired boy interrupted.

“W-we heard. I think the h-h-whole school h-heard.”

Beverly laughed, and took a bite of toast.

“So, Who are you guys?” She said, pointing her toast towards two people at the table. 

“I’m Ben.” The kind faced boy said, “And that’s Bill.” 

“Hey.” Beverly said, smiling. This felt oddly natural. None of them seemed intimidating and they seemed genuinely nice.

“Will you believe they only have waffles on Thursdays?” A voice said, and Beverly turned to see Eddie Kaspbrak walking back to the table, tray in his hands.

“Hey Eddie.” Beverly said, not realising that Eddie had made friends with anyone. 

“Bev!” Eddie said, pleasant surprise drawing over his face. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Dorm is crap so far though.”

Eddie laughed, and sat down opposite Beverly. “Richie, Ben and Bill were nice to me, so at least some people aren’t complete shit heads.”

Bill snorted and Eddie shot him a smile.

“Do you think we’ll have lessons together?” Beverly asked, stabbing her toast with her fork.

“Well, I think we have French first.” Ben said, “It was on our board anyway.”

“Board?”

“The one in the common room? It has our lessons on it.”

Beverly could of slapped herself. No one had told her that the lessons were in the common room!

“Jee, I should probably tell my tower.” Beverly started, but Richie shook his head.

“Tell them when you go back to your dorm.”

“We go back?”

“Shit Marsh, you really weren’t paying attention yesterday.”

Beverly opened her mouth to say something witty, then sighed and took a bite of her toast. 

“I should beoh-okay at F-f-French.” Bill said, smothering his toast with ketchup. “It h-helps my stutter, s-s-see.” 

“Who puts ketchup on toast?” Eddie asked.

“Me.” Bill replied, and Ben laughed. 

“I am so not looking forward to this.” Beverly said. She would be miles behind, she knew it. Everyone else here looked much smarter than her. What if she failed every class? Then got expelled?

“My brains could be used for better causes.” Richie said, exaggerating his voice.

“What brains?” Eddie asked. 

Ben laughed, and Beverly joined in.

“That hurt, Kaspbrak.”

“You should probably eat something soon, you know.” Ben said, glancing over at Eddie’s plate. It had a square of plain toast on it, and Eddie had been poking at it for the past ten minutes. 

“It doesn’t taste nice.” Eddie replied, looking at the toast like it was personally insulting him.

“Then g-g-get porridge.” Bill suggested, the took a giant bite of his toast. 

“No way. Porridge is basically throw up.” 

“Then spread something on your toast.” Ben suggested.

“I only like chocolate spread and they don’t have that.” Eddie replied.

Beverly smiled to herself. Eddie was unbelievably fussy, but he also had a big heart, and she thought things would be very different if he wasn’t here.

“First years, please go back to dorms now!” Mrs Henderson called. 

“Guess that’s us.” Richie said, and scooped his plate up, heading to the counter for old plates. The rest of the table followed suit. 

“I better wait for my tower.” Beverly said, and Ben, Bill, Richie and Eddie waved goodbye, before making their way back to their dorm.

Beverly turned around and walked back into the hall. She saw Audra and Patty talking together, then they both headed towards her.

“Hey Beverly!” Patty said, friendly as ever. “You weren’t at out table?”

“Oh, I was with some of my friends from North tower.” She said, as the three began walking.

“Well, we need to find our lessons.” Audra said, and Beverly thought how straight forward she was.

They got to their dorm and brushed their teeth, before collecting the things they’ll need throughout the day.

By the time they were done, the rest of them had arrived too. 

There was a knock on the door and Mrs Henderson came in. “It’s time for your first lesson.” She said, and someone cheered as Beverly moaned.

Mrs Henderson lead them out then told them their way to the French classroom.

“Best of luck.” She said, and Beverly couldn’t help but think she needed it.

** Richie Tozier **

Who knew clicking your pen was so much fun? Richie was repeating this motion until the teacher got annoyed.

“s'il vous plaît arrêtez cela ou vous serez retiré de la leçon!” The teacher spat, in all fairness, Richie would’ve, maybe, stopped if he understood her.

But he didn’t.

“Ok class” She clapped to get everybody’s attention. “Copy down these verbs and repeat them back to me in a few minutes.”

Richie didn’t realise he was half asleep until ‘Madame’ came by his desk and literally screamed down his ear. He quickly realised how much he hadn’t done that lesson.

“RICHIE TOZIER! How many times do I have to tell you! S'il vous plaît! Your lucky that this is the first lesson or I’d have you to Mrs Wilkins!” Her rant was ringing around the room causing everyone to quickly put there head down. Although, this didn’t effect Richie. Quite frankly, he didn’t care. Sending him out just means less work to do. Not that he was doing it anyway.

Once the class has calmed, Richie looked around the room and caught Ben’s eye.

‘She’s so mean!’ Richie tried signalling, and was returned with a confused look. Richie tried again but failed to reach Ben. He shrugged which was meant to determine a ‘don’t worry’. And Ben just smiled, in which Richie returned this.

There were only single tables so no one could copy off each other, Richie guessed, but he was only a couple of inches from the two tables besides him. On his left was Eric, on his right was Chloe and behind him was Greta.

Richie could actually feel the judgement of Greta at him burning through the back of his head.

Decades later, the bell rings and everyone started grabbing all there stuff at the speed of light.

Richie could understand this.

He walked out the class and followed everyone to English. As Richie passed, he saw a boy looking at a sheet of paper pinned up on the wall.

Richie’s curiosity got the better of him. He walked up next to him and stared at the sheet.

It read “ _Swim_ _team_ _tryouts_ _at_ _16_ : _15_ ” and it had seven lines underneath it. It became apparent that a swim tournament was coming up.

“You thinking of joining?” The boy asked while grabbing the pen to write his name.

“Maybe. Stanley right?” Richie asked reading the boys name.

“That’s me, although people usually call me Stan.” He smiled and Richie took the pen off him and scribbled down his name.

“Well Stan, we better head to English, but wait for me at the end of the day for tryouts?” Richie sounded a lot more confident than he meant, he didn’t know what came over him to just ask, but it obviously pulled off.

“Sure... Richie?” Stan had started walking and Richie caught up with him.

“The one and only.” Richie replied with finger guns. He never knew how simple it could be to make a friend, if you have confidence. Richie smiled. As easy as clicking a pen.

 

** Bill Denbrough  **

“Fuck is that s-shit”

“What?”

“Look at the b-b-board!” Bill said, peering into the classroom through the door.

“Let me see.” Beverly said, and squashed up next to Bill, looking in too. Her coopery hair tickled Bill’s cheek.

“The fuck does interfering mean?”

Richie laughed.

They’d just had French, and now it was English. Bill could see a title re written on the board. A stack of books were on the desk.

English was one of Bill’s best subjects when at his old school. He’d charm the teachers and write stories on the typewriter his parents got him for Christmas. But he’d never had to do what was written up on the board. He knew he was probably nervous, but that thought brought absolutely no comfort to him.

“Wait, can you read the book titles?” Beverly said, turning her head.

“Hold u-up-“ Bill started, beginning adjust, but just at that moment the door opened, and Bill and Beverly jumped back.

“Glad to see you’re so keen.” Their new teacher said, standing at the open door. She was tall and had dark brown hair, pulled up into a tight bun. This just seemed intimidating to Bill.

“Uh-“

“Please move to the back of the line.” She requested, and Bill and Beverly scurried off. Bill snorted out of pure ignorance and Beverly laughed too.

“She’s going to pick on us now.” She said, but her cheeks were flushed and Bill thought she was happy none the less.

“Right class!” Their teacher called from the front of the line, “I’m Mrs Foy and I’ll be your English teacher this year! Please come in and stand at the back, I’ll give you your seats!”

The class bundled in, talking in low voices. They stood at the front as Mrs Foy walked to the back, reading off a sheet once they were all stood in a line. “Emily, at the front next to Alison, Patty and Eddie at the next row over, Ben and Stan behind-“

Mrs Foy rumbled on, and slowly everyone made their way to their seats.

“Right.” Mrs Foy said, looking up at Beverly and Bill. “You two at the back next to each other. Right side, I want to keep my eye on you.”

Beverly snorted into her hand and her and Bill made their way to the back. _Could_ _be_ _worse_ , Bill thought to himself. He hadn’t known Beverly for long but she seemed nice enough. Let down and kind.

“Got lucky, h-huh?” Bill said , pulling out his seat and flopping onto it.

“Thought she was gonna burn us for witchcraft.” Beverly commented, and Bill laughed quietly.

“As you’re all new here, we’re going to start of easy. Towards the end of the term,” Mrs Foy said, standing in front of the board. “We will be reading higher level books by Stephen King.”

“I read a book by him before.” Beverly said to Bill in a low voice. “He killed off some of my favourite characters. I’ll never forgive him.”

“Emily and Alison, please hand out the books.” She continued, nodding towards the pile on her desk. Bill guessed she knew everyone’s names from her seating plan.

They both stood up and did as Mrs Foy has asked.  
Emily came around with yellow English books for them to do written work in, and Alison brought round copies a battered old book that looked like it had been used for a long time.

“This term, we will be reading Charlie and the chocolate factory by Roald Dahl. Please write the date in your yellow books and we can start with the reading.”

Bill opened his small pencil case and grabbed the pen on top. The whole case tipped and a few other things rolled out. Mrs Foy glared at him.

Way to go.

“You have magic markers?” Beverly asked him quietly, head bent down so it wouldn’t look like she was talking.

“Y-you mean my h-highlighters?”

“Yeah, them.”

As it was, Bill had three, pastel orange, blue and pink. They had fallen out of his case and were at danger of falling off the desk.

“I’ve never had them but they look so cool.” Beverly said, smiling at him.

“Beverly Marsh!” Mrs Foy spat from the front. “I encourage you to write the date and title quick, or you’ll be sent out!”

Beverly immediately looked back down, and scribbled some more words. Bill finished his title off, then looked up at the front of the class.

“The first task i’m asking you to do is simple enough.” Mrs Foy said, voice loud. “Please read the blurb of the book and write down your thoughts and ideas on it. You can include productions as well. This is to be done in silence. You may begin.”

Quiet fell over the room and everyone flipped their books.

Bill read the first line.

Mr Willy Wonka, the most wondrous inventor in the world-

“T-this is too b-boring.” Bill whispered to Beverly. He did like reading, admittedly, but something about doing it in this classroom sucked all of the fun out of it.

“Tell me about it.” Beverly replied, then looked at Bill’s pencil case. “Can I use a highlighter thing? Please?”

Bill laughed quietly. “Sure.”

Beverly reached over and took the pink highlighter. She went over her date, then her title with it. It was obvious she had never owned anything like that before, and part of Bill felt sad.

“That’s mint.” She said, grinning. “I wonder how they do it, yanno? Make the ink like, half transparent.”

“W-water it down, m-m-maybe.”

“Hold on.” Beverly said. She picked up Bill’s orange highlight and went over her pinky nail with it. Bill laughed.

“B-blue looks more your c-color.” Bill said.

“You think?” Beverly asked, grinning at him. She picked up the blue highlighter and pretended to inspect it, holding it up to the light. Bill laughed.

“Think y-you could d-d-draw one of those tattoos you see i-in the m-movies?” He asked, glancing from Beverly to the highlighters.

“Why don’t we find out?” She said, and drew a large swirl on the back of Bill’s hand. “Aww.” she said, leaning back. “I was going for a retro look, but it looks like a...”

“A b-big blue hurricane?” Bill asked and Beverly nodded.

“That.” she said, then laughed.

Bill couldn’t believe he’d just met Beverly this morning. She made everything seem a little brighter, like there was a small light inside her. It was nice.

Bill drew a small heart on her hand with the pink. “That’s b-because you love the h-h-highlighters so much.” He said, and she stage gasped. Bill smiled.

“Hey, do you think-“

“Bill! Beverly! Please finish the task at hand!”

Bill bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his open work book. He glanced up at the blurb.

“Work at hand.” Beverly said, and Bill spluttered out a laugh.

“That’s it!” Mrs Foy said from the front. “Bill, please stand up and read out what you’ve put so far.”

Bill stood up and opened his mouth, then closed it. He had written nothing. Not a single word.

“Well uh...” Bill said, looking around the classroom. Everyone seemed to be staring right at him. A spotlight was burning down, and focusing itself on him.

“T-t-the blurb r-really is... d-d-descriptive.”

“Right.” Mrs Foy said cooly. “And what’s it about?”

“Uh.” Bill tried to think back to the few sentences he scanned. “A b-boy who l-l-“lives in a uh... f-factory?”

Beverly laughed at that point, and that set Bill off too.

“That’s enough!” Mrs Foy yelled, face burning. “Out, the both of you!”

They both stopped laughing immediately. Beverly stood up and they both walked to the front, towards the door. Had he really just got sent out? On the first day? Way to fucking go.

Beverly opened the door and they walked out. Bill could almost feel people’s eyes on him.

“I’m sorry.” Beverly said when she’d shut the door. She was leaning against the wall, and Bill noticed that she was still holding his blue highlight.

“It’s n-not your f-f-fault.”

Beverly smiled. Bill walked so he was next to her and dragged his feet against the floor.

“It was quite f-funny.” Bill said, and Beverly met his eyes.

“Too shay.” She said, then laughed again. Bill had time to think that it was one of the happiest sounds on the earth when they were interrupted.

“Well.” Someone said, and Bill jumped, looking up to see the headmistress standing in front of them. “First day and you’re already in trouble?”

Bill’s face burned. Just his luck, for the headmistress to be walking through this fucking corridor at this fucking time.

Mrs Wilkins tutted and Bill felt regret wash over him. He’d done it now. She’d call home and tell his parents or something, then they’d get mad and Bill would be in deep shit.

But what of it?

Bill didn’t want to be here. Not really. It was his parents. All their fault. So let her call them. See if old stuttering Bill cared. See if he gave two shits.

“Why aren’t you in lessons?” She continued, and Bill sniffed.

“We were laughing, Miss.” Beverly said quietly. Bill admired how calm she sounded.

“Mmm.”

“We’re sorry.”

Bill looked up. He hated his parents again. He hated Whitemore again. He hated everything again.

He turned and saw Beverly’s kind, grey eyes on his.

He liked Beverly Marsh.

 

** Stan Uris **

Stan stared at the clock, willing it to go faster.

The lesson dragged and dragged on. Quite frankly, he didn’t care if the simultaneous equations lined up or didn’t. Although he tried his best to concentrate, since there was a risk of him doing badly that could affect his chances on the team.

“For the 100th time, Stanley, pay attention!” Mr Smith yelled.

For someone who is a maths teacher, he wasn’t very accurate, since this was only the second time he had picked on Stan that lesson.

Stan was at the very back of the small spaced classroom, squeezed tightly next to Buffy and Bill.

He looked around the room, and his eyes were averted to Mr Smiths coat pocket.

He saw a packet of something sticking out of it, probably spare chalk sticks, Stan thought.

Without realising, the bell had already gone and everybody around him had started to pack up faster than anything he’d ever seen. Stan threw his belongings into his rucksack and got up from his seat.

From all the commotion of getting out the classroom, Stan was pushed into one of the coat pegs. Knocking into Mr Smith’s jacket, and out fell a pack of cigarettes. _So_ _that_ _was_ _what_   _the_   _packet_ _was_ _in_ _his_ _pocket_ , Stan thought. He shrugged it off, guessing that was what most teachers had in there pockets.

He apologised and left the room, still holding his upper arm on where the peg had scraped it, picking up his speed to meet Richie to go to swim practise.

“Get held back?” Richie asked, while walking to tryouts.

“No I just couldn’t get out the classroom and then I got lost so that was fun.” Stan chuckled, still staring at the map to find the swimming pool.

“So, do you think we will make the team?” Richie asked, carrying on the conversation.

“I hope so, it will be fun.” Stan stated while smiling, he had always loved sport, swimming being the most, if he got in the team that would at least be one reason to make school less hell like.

“Yeah, although I haven’t always been into sport so if I didn’t get in, I wouldn’t be too crushed.” Richie smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes, almost as if it mattered the most to him if he didn’t get in, but Stan just thought that could just be his natural smile.

They had finally reached the pool and the instructor had told the kids who showed up to get changed into swim wear.

“This changing room stinks,” Richie remarked, covering his nose, “what died in here?”

“My will to live.” Eric laughed and Richie rolled his eyes. Stan agreed with Richie and Eric on this, probably more than he should.

“Ok! Quiet guys... guys! Don’t make me blow my whistle. I’m warning yo- RIGHT!” Mr Valley’s whistle shrieked into the air which stopped the chatter almost immediately. “If you can’t learn to be quiet when told, then I will not allow any first formers in the team At. All.”

Everybody was made to do warmups outside the sunlit pool first and then were allowed to stand in it.

“We will go through safety rules first and then I will see who can actually be trusted in a swimming pool.” Sir said sternly.

“Shit, that’s me ruled out then.” Richie joked, making both Stan and him laugh.

“What was that?!”

“Nothing sir.” Richie stepped in. After a while of learning how to save someone who is drowning, they could actually start swimming.

“Great work Chloe! Eric. Don’t forget to come up for air. That’s good Stan, keep going! Richie what the fu- get out the pool! You can’t even class that as swimming!”

“Come on sir, I’m not that bad!” Richie groaned while getting a towel to sit out.

“No back chatting, do you want to be on the team? If so, I suggest you zip it!” Mr Valley exclaimed. “I doubt you have a chance anyway now” he muttered.

Stan had heard all this and gave Richie a look of, _it’s_ _ok_ _there_ _is_ _no_ _point_ _in_ _going_ _off_ _on_ _one_ _yet_.

An hour had past and the tryouts had come to an end. Now, they were finding out who made it in.

“From the first form, Chloe, Eric, Blake, Stan, Philip, James, Anna and Harriet. Well done guys.” He announced and Stan couldn’t help but feel bad for Richie.

“Hey, it’s ok, if someone drops out then your up next, don’t beat yourself up about it. It’s only sports.” Stan reassured, patting Richie on the back.

He saw Richie plaster a smile on his face and nodded saying he didn’t really care, but Stan could tell there was something deeper within Richie that cared a lot. Possibly more than him.

“And from the second form...”

“Come on, this doesn’t matter to us, let’s get changed and head to our dorm room before dinner.” Stan smiled, hoping some of his positivity was transferring into Richie.

“I guess I could tryout for lacrosse.” Richie shrugged.

“Yes! You should! I think you would definitely make the team.” Stan encouraged, and genuinely thought that Richie would be good at it.

“Thanks Stan, but you really don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.” Richie looked away, dragging his heels. “You probably think I’m begging for sympathy.”

“Shut up.”

“Wha-“

“I said shut up. We may have only known each other for what, 2 hours, but we aren’t gonna get along if you keep putting yourself down.” Stan smiled, making his words not come out as too harsh, “you’re not a dumb, stupid idiot like you think you are, feel free to slap me for being this cringe but you have a lot of potential. So please stop thinking yourself as bad.”

“Jeez how many of these lectures am I going to get?” Richie laughed.

“Feeling better?” Stan chuckled along trying to lighten the disgustingly cringe worthy mood.

“Yeah, thank you Stan. Maybe I won’t be as lonely as I thought I would be here.” Richie smiled. “And uhh, Stan?”

“What?” He replied, what more could he ask?

“Are we lost?” Without realising it, they had walked down a wrong corridor and strolled straight into a dead end.

“I swear to fuc- if I get lost one more time in this place I will break something.” Stan groaned, staring at a map on the wall. Stan sighed, “this way.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Bev’s and Richie and Stan’s friendships will never fail to give me life.  
> Anyway, here it is! Sorry in advance for spelling errors etc! Comment questions or suggestions and we’ll do our best to answer!!


	3. Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took awhile, but it’s up now!! Also, Happy first of December!  
> Me and Alice hope you enjoy this chapter, it’s a little longer than the last one!

** Ben Hanscom, Whitemore dining room **

Ben stirred his spoon around his porridge bowl. It didn’t actually look that bad. The food at his old school looked like some live animal had been added to the mix, and their organs were floating around the plate.

No part of Ben missed his old school. It was awful. The teachers, the students, the classrooms. The only reason Ben hadn’t broken down and refused to go was because of his mother.

He knew she was struggling. And he knew she was working hard to make it better for them. And while his school was worse than a lot of things he could imagine, at least he was helping, in some way.

He never told his mum what happened at school. He felt weirdly guilty about it. Instead, he’d lied and say it was all-very-nice-thank-you,-whats-for-tea?

But Whitemore was different. To start with, he had friends, something that had seemed very much impossible to start with. And the lessons weren’t half as bad. Their French teacher could yell louder than a plane landing and some were rather strict, but they were doing a better job at teaching than his old ones were. And it was only the second day.

Ben Hanscom, for once is his dull, sad life, had hope.

“You should eat something, Eddie.” The sweet voice of Beverly Marsh said, and Ben snapped out of his thinking.

The table he was sitting at consisted of Eddie Kaspbrak and Beverly Marsh, currently arguing over if porridge was the devils making itself. At the other side was Richie Tozier, trying to snatch the ketchup out of Bill Denbrough’s hands.

Ben felt there, somehow. Like he was balanced perfectly with them. He didn’t speak as much as the others did (he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries) but even when he was silent he felt acknowledged. Like they were pleased he was here.

Eddie gave in defeat and took a (small) spoonful of porridge.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Beverly said gently, smiling.

Eddie faked a face of disgust and took a long drink of water. Ben laughed.

“Oh yeah!” Richie cried suddenly, dropping the ketchup bottle onto the table, for it to get snatched up by Bill. “I met someone yesterday, and I want to introduce you guys to him. He’s in North tower so you know but-“

“It’s not Blake, is it?” Eddie asked. “He talked to me about how amazing he was throughout Math, I was debating punching him.”

“It’s not Blake.” Richie said, grinning.”But good luck guessing.”

“Richie, there’s like three people left to guess from.” Ben said, taking another spoon of porridge. Ben likes Richie. He was loud, and overexcitable, but Ben could tell he was caring. He sometimes wished he could be as loud as Richie.

“Ohh, is it Eric?” Beverly asked.

“No.” Richie said loudly.

“So Mike or Stan?” Ben asked somewhat timidly. Richie swore under his breath.

“Well.” Beverly said, pushing her plate away from her, “I’m excited to meet whoever he is. Now, however, I have to go back to my dorm table.” And with that, she stood up and walked away.

“W-we should p-p-probably get going too.” Bill said.

They’d checked the common room before bed, and they had History first, followed by English.

“J-just my l-l-luck.” Bill had said when he read it. “English t-two days i-in a r-r-row.”

They got up and began to walk out of the hall, heading back to the dorms to collect their stuff then the four walked to History, Ben a little behind Eddie, Bill and Richie.

They reached the door, and lined up with the others that were already there. Beverly walked over and joined them. Ben found her smile brighter than the sun.

“I s-s-suck at History.” Bill said, leaning against the wall. “Then a-agin, it wasn’t b-be much worse than E-E-English.”

Beverly laughed, and Ben thought he saw Bill blush for a second.

“What did happen?” Eddie asked, “Yesterday, in English?”

“Bill drew some beautiful tattoos on my hand.” Beverly said, flashing her hand up. “Alas, it almost all came off in the shower. But the heart is still there, it’s just more of a faded pink now.”

Bill snorted, and Ben felt a pang in his chest. It wasn’t anger, but more a sort of longing. A odd feeling of sadness that went deeper than just that. Ben swallowed. He shook it off.

The door to the classroom opened, and the hall fell quiet. A tall man walked out, scanning the rows with a blank face. Then he smiled a little and opened his mouth. “Hello class, I’m Mr Lantic and welcome to your second day. I hope you enjoy my classes as much as I hope to enjoy your company. There’s a seating plan arranged which is simply a register patten, but if you all work hard then I may change it. Please step inside and I’ll give you your seats.”

The class trailed in, talking quietly. “Doesn’t seem too bad.” Richie said to Bill.

North and West lined up against the wall. The class they were in was similar to all their other classes, with desks made for two in rows. The only thing that would make it obvious it was a History class were the posters tacked up on the wall.

 _At_ _least_ _the_ _desks_ _have_ _the_ _right_ _amount_ _of_ _legs_ Ben thought, remembering his old school.

Ben drew his attention back to Mr Lantic, who was studying his register.

“Bill Denbrough next to Patrica Blum.” He called, and as Patty and Bill began to walk to the first desk, Ben realised it would probably be girl boy seating.

Mr Lantic called a few more names, sitting Ben next to Alison Halster. Once everyone was seated and books were handed out, their teacher stood at the front and wrote the date on the board.

“I sure hope this isn’t boring.” Alison said quietly to Ben. “My old history teacher could drone on for hours and I’d get nothing.”

Ben laughed and tried to think of something funny to say back. He could say his old school was bad? Or he really disliked history? Or he really liked History? Or-

“Okay class!” Mr Lantic called, and Ben turned his attention to the front.

Nice going.

“I assume you already know each other’s names, so we won’t go through that, but I thought a fitting first lesson would be the history of school.” He perched on the edge of his desk. “So, anyone know anything?”

The class stayed silent. A snort came from the back that sounded suspiciously like Richie’s.

“Brilliant, even more to teach!” Me Lantic said, jumping up and grabbing the register. “Okay, anyone want to guess when this school was built?”

A few hands shot up.

“Audra?”

“The early 1900s, sir?”

“Much earlier then that. Anyone else?”

Ben was smart. Not amazingly so, but he was smart. He could answer questions like other students. But he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“Patricia?”

“1500s Sir?”

“Oh no, later.”

 _1700s_ Ben thought.

He thought back to his friends, the ones he never thought he’d have. Sometimes you gotta take a risk.

Ben stuck his hand in the air.

“Uh, Ben?”

“It looks like it was built in the mid 1700s.”

Mr Lantic clapped. “Very well done, Ben. How’d you guess?”

Ben raised his eyebrows. The things that normally made sense in his head sounded crazy out loud. And he didn’t want other people to think he was insane.

“The materials outside, I guess. They were the most used in the 1700s. And the structure too. It was uh, commonly used then.”

“You know about architecture?” Alison asked in a quiet voice. Ben was stubbed. He just knew.

“Maybe.” He said.

“Like Ben said, Whitemore was first made in the mid 1700s and it was originally going to be a all girls school. However, the founder changed their minds while it was being built, and it’s now a boy and girls school, as you can tell. Now the founders...” Mr Lantic went on, Ben let his eyes drop to his desk.

This wasn’t half bad.

He wasn’t doing half bad.

Ben was filled with a sudden idea, and he flipped to the bad of his book. He wrote quickly, hoping Mr Lantic wouldn’t see.

Things to have done by the end of the school year:  
-have friends  
-speak to mum  
-get work done

Ben looked at the three he’d listed. He could add to one if he needed to, he guessed.

He looked up, at Richie, then Bill, then Eddie, then Beverly.

Ben added one last thing to the list;

-don’t be stupid

**Mike Hanlon, Geography Class**

“Can you tell me how many litres of water is averagely used daily?” Mr Dale asked, to which no one put there hand up. Mike liked Mr Dale. He doesn’t just choose people who don’t have their hand up, he tells the students when they don’t know. For some reason teachers don’t understand the concept of: ‘when my hand is up, I know the answer, when it isn’t, I don’t.’ This is what make has heard, since he has been homeschooled all his life.

“Since none of you know, I will postpone the knowledge test to two weeks.” Mike definitely liked him. Geography turned out to be quite fun, people eventually got the idea of remembering, although looking around the class, he confusion written over half the class’ faces. Mike caught Stan’s eye and smiled, thinking back to when he would never have dared to speak, let alone make friends.

“When does the bell go?” The boy next to him asked.

“Um five minutes or so?” Mike answered, staring at his watch, as if it were about to jump off his wrist and stroll out the classroom.

After 20 minutes the bell finally went, the boy next to Mike just laughed. Whether this was with him or at him, Mike just smiled along.

“Hey come with me I want to introduce you to a couple of my friends.” Stan ran up to Mike from the back to the classroom. “I think you’ll get on well with them.”

Mike and Stan entered the large, crowded canteen and Stan seemed to quickly spot his friends.

“Hey guys, this is Mike.” Mike waved with a small smile, if Mike were to judge on looks, he would’ve thought they seemed nice, but he wouldn’t do anything of the type.

“Come sit here, introduce your self, don’t worry we aren’t the judgmental type. My name is Richie, this is Ben, Beverly, Bill and Eddie.” Richie pointed at the group sitting at the table.

“I’m Mike Hanlon, and uh, I was homeschooled until two days ago? Pretty much it.” Mike shrugged, he didn’t want to open up too much in the first thirty seconds of meeting them, but it was only himself that stopped him from carrying on.

After about 15 minutes Richie stood up. “Me, Bev and Eddie are going for a walk, anyone wanna join?”

“No we’ll stay. See you at math?” Bill spoke, although from Bill’s body angle, it kind of looked aimed at Beverly. Mike smirked, he could tell what was going on, although this was quickly replaced with a sympathetic expression, since Ben’s face was full of...longing? Mike just shrugged to himself.

“So Mike, I hear you’re trying out for the lacrosse team? Richie was also thinking about it.” Stan spoke up after the three left.

“Um yeah, I’ve always liked being active, since I’ve been working on the farm actually, so any sport will do really.” Mike quickly shut his mouth. Had he said too much? He didn’t mean to say anything about the farm, he didn’t want people thinking he was a smelly animal-killing freak. He’s anything but it.

“That’s so cool! I’ve always wanted to see what farming life was like, actually, I did bird watching when I was younger.” Stan replied, looking deeply interested.

“Y-y-you did? All I d-did was make p-p-paper boats w-with my brother.” Bill spoke happily, enjoying the conversation.

“Well since everybody is saying something about themselves, I like studying town newspapers and mysteries, especially books.” Ben said.

After a while of laughing and chatting, the bell for math went, and an echoing of groans filled the hall.

“Let’s g-g-go, I’m in yu-your set I f-f-think.” Bill said to Mike, zipping up his bag and caught up to him.

“Yeah, what room are we in?” Mike asked, fumbling about for his timetable Mike heard somebody crash into Bill.

“Watch it! Asshole,” a boy, who Mike assumes as, from the other half of their year. Then he mumbled, “They need to watch it, old scum.”

Mike was about to retaliate when Bill placed his hand gently on his shoulder, giving him the look of: ‘there not worth it, just leave it.’ If it weren’t for Bill, that boy would have to pay a not so short visit to Matron.

But Mike got the sort of idea that it wasn’t an accident, It’s bad enough insulting him, let alone his friend. And they weren’t going to get away with it.

** Richie Tozier, walking around Whitemore  **

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”

Richie formed a rock with his hands, only to get it wrapped up with Bev’s paper.

“Close call.” He said, grinning.

“That’s 5-3.” Eddie called out. “Bev wins, once again.”

Beverly gave them both finger guns then laughed.

It was a chilly September day, slowly transitioning into evening. The breeze was scattering leaves over the playing fields, which is where Richie, Beverly Marsh and Eddie Kaspbrak were currently walking.

They all finished lunch in record time, and had chosen to take a walk around the school, in hopes of getting to grips with it’s relatively simple layout.

Richie couldn’t of picked better people to walk with. Bev and Eddie had way of keeping everything lighthearted and upbeat, and Richie found it hard to believe that they had never had friends before this.

“Do you know when Stan’s swimming thing is?” Beverly asked, slipping her hands into her coat pockets. She slowed down, so she was walking next to Richie, Eddie on her other side.

“This Sunday.” Richie said confidently. Sure, he’d been a bit disappointed when he hadn’t made the team, but no one needed to know that. Just put on a brave face and keep going. Besides, Richie was excited to see Stan swim in the tournament. He was beautifully graceful in the water, almost gliding along. Richie had no doubt in his mind that Stan would win.

“Stan seems nice.” Eddie said, looking up at the autumn trees. “He seems funny, too. That’s always a good trait, yanno?”

Richie glanced at Eddie’s hazel eyes, “Then you must dig me, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie.”

Richie laughed, and they crossed the fields to the edge of the forest, surrounding the back half of Whitemore.

“Mike seems nice too.” Bev said, kicking the first batch of fallen leaves with her shoes. “They both do.”

Richie’s old friends were absolute crap, to put it nicely. And, even though he hated to admit it, he was crap too. He’d been rude, and mean, and just about the worst Richie Tozier he could of possibly been. He’d done some things that, looking back at, he really shouldn’t of done. But he was here now. Here with six other people he didn’t need to pretend to like. And, as much as Richie hated his parents in this current moment, maybe they were right. Maybe this would be good for him.

Maybe they would.

“Lookit, it’s the North side losers!” A loud voice called, and Richie turned his head to see two people with their arms linked, one from West tower and the other from South.

“Wait, is that a girl? Well, i’ll be dammed! You looked just like a boy, hair and all!” The two burst out laughing, evil glints in their eyes.

“Yeah, fuck off would ya?” Bev asked, clearly pissed.  
Richie honestly couldn’t blame her. They’d done nothing to provoke them, they were just walking by themselves. But apparently they didn’t need a reason to go off on them.

“Upset? Wait till your towers loses in the swim race!” The South tower girl yelled. “Especially considering you didn’t make the team, four eyes.”

Richie looked down at his feet. So this was about the swim tournament. They were right, though. He didn’t make the team. He couldn’t even do that here. On his first day.

“What a tragedy.” Eddie called back, keeping relatively calm. “I’m sure he’ll remember to cry about it later.”

Richie smiled up at him, and Eddie grined back.

“Guess we’ll see this Saturday. It will be a real surprise.” The boy called, and the began walking back just as the bell rang.

“Bunch of fucks.” Eddie said shaking his head.

“Stan will knock them dead on Saturday, I know he will.” Beverly said, and the three began to walk to the school.

“They’re very confident.” Richie mused.

“They’re cocky.” Bev replied.

Richie thought back to yesterday, how some seemed to strut the corridors with an almost scheming glint in their eyes. He remembered his old school, and how things would always happen before big things. Not coincidences, no, they were planned. And Richie had even helped plan a few. But, what if South and West tower had something in mind? Would they?

“Guys,” Richie said, hoping he wouldn’t sound insane when he said it out loud. “Uh, what if they’re planning something? Like sabotage?”

Beverly stopped walking. “Oh my God, you’re right.”  
  
Eddie stopped too, glancing over at Bev then back to Richie. “You think that’s why they were laughing so much? They had something planned?”

“Maybe.”

They all looked up at Whitemore, it’s impressive towers glinting in the sun. Gaggles if school children were walking in now, heading for their next lesson.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” Bev said. “We’ll bunk.”

“What?” Richie said, trying to process what Bev had just said.

“And spy. Put a stop to whatever they’re planning.”

It wasn’t that bad of an idea, Richie supposed. It would be class, so no one would be there. And they could come up with some sort of reason why they missed class...

“I’m down.” Eddie said.

They both looked at Richie.

“Why the hell not?”

Eddie cheered and Bev knocked Richie playfully.

“We gotta be careful.” Bev said, glancing at the school. “I don’t want to get caught.”

They talked things over. They’d go when the next bell rang, so the hallways would be empty. They’d make their way to the first years dormitory in South or West tower, and two would look while the other one kept watch. If anyone saw them, they’d say they were lost or collecting textbooks for the lesson.

But no one was going to get caught.

Their stuff was still in their own dormitory’s, and they hoped no one checked there. Hopefully the others would have the mind to cover for them, but they could be equally confused.

The trio walked slowly to the big doors, keeping to the side as much as possible. The second bell had rung out, and they hoped everyone who needed to be in their lessons were in their lessons.

“Eds, can you see anyone through the door?” Richie asked, bending slightly.

“Eds?” Eddie said, turning to look at him. “My names Eddie, you know that right.”

“It’s short for Eddie-“

“Eddie’s short for Edward, dipshit.”

“Guys.” Beverly hissed. “Quit it and see if you can spot anyone.”

Eddie huffed and looked through the door. “no one.” he said after a while.

“Right.” Richie said, trying to think clearly. “Uh Eds, if-“

“Eddie.”

“Right. Eddie if you go first, i’ll follow and Bev and can go at the end. You look in front, Bev will look behind and I’ll check at the sides. Let’s go.”

Eddie pushes the door open and slid in, followed clumsily by Richie and then smoothly by Bev.

The hallways, like Eddie had said, were completely empty. Lessons were in progress, and they were missing them.

“Uh, South tower first?” Eddie asked, glancing around.

“Why not.” Richie said, and they trailed up to the stairs.

Once up on the landing, they tried to make their way to the towers designated for the people in South.

Richie had never really appreciated how many hallways and doorways their were. Now, walking in the quietness of the early afternoon, he walked past what seemed like hundreds. The doors were all neat and almost intimidating; deep drown with gold handles.

It crosses Richie’s mind that the place they need to go to was probably through one of these doors. Or even, down several corridors.

“Guys,” he spoke up, trying not to be too loud. “how do we know where we’re going?”

“We don’t.” Bev sighed, stopping and looking around.

Richie tried to think back to the first day, with all the tours (was that really two days ago?) and think if anyone said anything about the other towers.

“Let’s think of it as logically as we can.” Eddie proposed, leaning against a door and fixing Richie and Beverly with a look. “On our side, North tower is directly to the side of east, just with a corridor separating them. I’d imagine it would be the same here, right? If we find one, we find the other.”

Bev snapped her fingers. “Eddie you’re right!” She cried, then looked around, as if expecting someone to be looking at her. She lowers her voice, “Chloe said this side and our side is almost a replica. The class placements are similar, and the places leading to the hall are the same. And the dorms have to be exactly the same, because they’re in the actual towers here.”

“So if we can use a route we’d use on our side...?” Richie asked, but he already knew.

“We’ll find the towers.” Bev finished, then smiled. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”

“We’re first class spies, not megaminds.” Richie reasoned, though he too was smiling. This was really going to work.

“If that’s true, Then South must be opposite East.” Eddie commented, then leaned up slightly, so he could look at the staircase. “Let’s go back, and start from there.”

The three walked back, happy that it was finally working. Richie thought maybe it was the fact it was rebellious, but the whole thing seemed more exciting than it sound of been. Bunking off math to go into another towers dormitory, it was all very new. Richie’s thoughts, once again went back to his old school. Everything he did that could of been viewed as rebellious were for his own use. He shut his eyes briefly, trying not to think back too much. He hated his past self, blinded by his so called friends. But now they were doing something they shouldn’t be doing, it wasn’t even for them. It was for Stan. Stan and the whole tower, to some extent.

Maybe Richie wasn’t such a asshole anymore.

“Guys.” Eddie hissed, lead of a small line they had formed.

“Yeah?” Richie asked, shaking his thoughts away.

“They’re people in there.” Eddie said, pressed weirdly against the wall.

Richie strained his ears, and could hear muffled voices. “I didn’t know there were classes on floors apart from first.” He mused, not to Eddie or Bev in particular.

“Yeah, there’s loads.” Bev replied, trying not to be overheard. “But they’re mostly music rooms and stuff like that. Actually the towers might share, i’m not too sure.”

“How’d you know all this?” Eddie asked, glancing at her.

“There’s this girl called Chloe in my form, he cousin went here.”

“Oh.” Eddie said, then turned his head in an attempt to look through the pane of glass in the door. “I think we can walk past, as long as we’re fast. I’d suggest crawling, but no way am I doing that.”

“Then go.” Beverly urged, and Eddie hurried past, keeping as low as possible.  
Bev followed suit and Richie came up on the rear.

“Okay, I think it’s just up this way.” Bev said, and they ventured on, through several more corridors until they reach a winding staircase, identical to the one they used to enter their dorms.

“Guess this is it.” Eddie said, looking up at the many steps. “Now or never.”

Eddie, once again, led the way. Bev and Richie followed, keeping close together. They reached the top, and started right, hoping their theories about South tower were right. Sure enough, they came to a a large door in-scripted with the words ‘first years.’ They’d found it.

Eddie paused, the took a step forward. He kicked the door, and it swung open.

“Was there any need for that, Eds?” Richie asked.

Eddie brushed his hands on his trousers. “If you’re gonna do something, do it well.”

Bev looked slightly stunned for a second then shrugged. “Let’s go.” she said, and walked through the door.

The room the three walked into was almost eerily similar to their own dorms. Eight large beds with curtains; A door leading to the washroom; the crimson carpet.

Richie stepped in, something bubbling in his chest. They’d done it. They’d actually done it. They were inside South tower. But he couldn’t get excited, not yet. They still needed to look around. And the missing class thing might come back later...

“You guys look under the beds, i’ll check the wardrobes.” Bev said, and Richie and Eddie nodded to show they understood. “Okay, go.”

Richie walked over the beds pressed against the left side, while Eddie took the right. Beverly walked along both, opening the wardrobe and searching it, bottom to top.

Richie didn’t know what they were looking for exactly, but he looked anyway. They may find nothing. They could of been overthinking. But the sneers on the boys face...

Richie shook his head and kept searching. He’d looked under four or so beds when something actually happened.

“Guys!” Eddie has gasped, “I think i’ve found something.”

Beverly ditched the wardrobe she was searching and ran over to where Eddie currently sat. Richie joined her, and Eddie pulled something out form under the bed.

“What is it, Eds?” Richie asked, getting a small glare from the smaller boy.

“I’m not sure.” Eddie continued, “I think it’s parcel.”

The three began to open it, not noticing the figure at the door.

 **Stan Uris, math class**  

Stan and the others, minus Bev, Richie and Eddie, weirdly, walked into the whitewashed classroom taking their seats.

“Ughhhhh I hate math.” Stan groaned to who ever was listening.

“It’s our fourth lesson.” Bill chuckled, although by the looks of things, agreed. “How do you find math Mike? Mike?”

“Hold on I’m just asking Mr Smith something” Mike was walking to the front of the classroom.

“What’s he hiding?” Ben whispered, agent style. Stan shrugged, he preferred not to get into things that didn’t involve him.

Half an hour through the lesson, and Stan had learnt so much about absolutely nothing. Just as Stan was about to roll off his chair in boredom, he heard his name.

“Stan and Mike, it’s 14:00 you may leave for lacrosse now.” Mr Smith said, obviously not caring less.

“Wha-?” Stan looked over to Mike who was already packing up. He just smiled at Stan ushered him to leave. Once they were out of the classroom, Stan bombarded Mike with questions.

“Why did he say my name as well, I’m not even doing lacrosse, did you tell him that I was going?! Mike answer me!”

“I knew how much you hated math so I’m doing you a favour.” Mike laughed, “also I didn’t want to be lonely, I’ve spent half my life doing that.” He mumbled the last, but Stan heard.

“What? Why?”

“Well,” Mike hesitated, “I’ve been working on a farm. My whole life actually. And I was homeschooled, so I never really had any friends. Unless you can count sheep?”

Stan laughed, “well hey, you have me as a friend now, and the others. And thank you for getting me out of hel- math.” He smiled and they carried on walking side by side in silence, but not the awkward silence, just the silence where just the person’s presence is enough to keep them content.

Once they reached the field around the back of the school, they were greeted with almost neon green grass, with the odd daisy, peeking through. The trees around the field were yellowing at the top, going down into an ombré of dark green from the last of the summer, going into Fall. The slow setting sun rays cascaded onto the grass, leaving golden specks on the grass like a disco ball.

They walked through the grass to the end of the land and spotted a few boys and girls dotted around with lacrosse sticks.

“This must be it.” Mike sighed, looking as if he regretted ever wanting to do sport.

“You will be fine Mike, I know you will get in.” Stan lightly placed his hand in Mike’s shoulder hoping to give him reassurance. Mike smiled back, and Stan assumed that he didn’t fail.

Throughout the trial Stan cheered for Mike and tripped over a couple of times while pacing the pitch.

“Flip’s sake Stan SHUT UP you moron!” Top quality insults came flying out of Greta’s mouth, making Stan just laugh and flip her off.

“MAKE ME!” Stan didn’t know his vocal chords could go up that high while screaming with laughter.

“Now,” the coach said. “Y’all wanna know who’s in the team? And before the people who weren’t picked get upset, you all performed amazingly so really you weren’t picked just because there weren’t enough spaces!” She beamed at them all. “Drum roll please!”

All the teens thumped on the ground repeatedly, almost making the earth shake. “Allison, Greta, Mike, Daniel, Lucas and Emma! Well done all!” Coach Maddie congratulated and instructed them back to there next lesson (since they missed the rest of last).

“Well done!” Stan jogged over to Mike.

“Thanks. Lets go to art, unfortunately I can’t get you out of that.” Mike laughed while picking up the equipment.

They walked back across the field, although a lot more faster now since they won’t have an excuse to be late for next lesson.

“This door right?” Stan asked.

“Nope, this one.” Mike replied. Pushing it open into the almost empty hallway.

“Fuck.” Stan cursed under his breath, “I will never get used to this place.” He mumbled and followed Mike to the art room.

Once they arrived, the wondered over to where all there friends were. Well, not quite all, Stan noticed. Minus three... still?

** Eddie Kaspbrak, South Tower **

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

“Language!” Eddie whispered.

“What the fuck are you dipshits doing here?” A boy walked through the door with a scowl plastered on his face.

“We uh-“ Richie was cut off before he could say anything stupid.

“We destroyed our bathrooms cuz I w-was bleeding.” Beverly spoke, “out of my-, ya know? Can’t get enough of moon day ha... ha?”

Richie and Eddie turned in unison to Beverly.

“I panicked!”

So much for not saying something stupid.

“I’ll believe that when I see it-“ the boy got cut off.

“I’m almost 100% sure you do not want to see it.” Beverly laughed.

The boy made his way to the three and saw the package in Eddie’s hand. He smirked and whispered, “you won’t tell, I won’t tell.”

“Why should we do what you say?” Richie piped up all of a sudden.

“Because if you don’t, your team might wake up with a few... bruises.”

Richie was ready to present his full wrath on the body, but quickly stopped when Eddie lightly placed his hand on Richie’s shoulder. He didn’t know a lot about Richie yet, but one thing Eddie knew was that he had quite a quick temper.

The boy turned around, still with a smug smirk, and walked back to the door. “The name’s Thomas, although you already would’ve found out when our fans scream announce the wining team’s strikers name.”

“This isn’t an alternate universe Thomas.” Eddie roller his eyes.

Thomas just laughed and strolled out the door.

“Well.”

“Come on we need to get to art, we’ll tell the others about this. I don’t care what that asshole said to us.” Richie started walking to the door.

“Shit, ow fuck!” Eddie cursed as he stubbed his toe on the edge of a bed.

“Language!” Richie mocked outrage, almost as perfectly as Eddie had.

They walked out the door and made their way back to the art room, still being wary of other teachers that could walk past. Eddie groaned about his toe almost the whole way there.

“Guys I think it’s bleeding.” Eddie’s breath quickened slightly.

“It’s ok, you can put a plaster on it when we get to art.” Beverly smiled.

“In art? No that’s gross, what if paint gets in the cut or everybody sees it and bullies me for the rest of my life or what if I get something in my eye and become temporarily blind so I can’t see where to put the plast-“

“Eddie,” Richie stopped walking and turned around to face him, “your going to be fine, ok? Calm down.”

They finally got to art and went in one by one (because if they all went in that would look suspicious).

“Eddie Kaspbrak. Why are you 20 minutes late to this lesson?” Mrs Clark asked, it had a tang of.. humour in it? Eddie noticed.

“Sorry miss I cut my toe and needed medical assistance.” Eddie smiled apologetically.

“And you, Richie Tozier?” Eddie spun round and telepathically asked Richie if he had really forgotten the plan that easily.

“I was helping him find his way.” Richie placed his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, just as Eddie had done to calm Richie down earlier. Guess it works both ways, Eddie thought.

They sat down next to the rest of their friends.

“Beverly Marsh. Why are you lat- you know what? I literally don’t have the will. Just sit down.” Mrs Clark sat down by her desk as she watched the rest of the class work.

“Guys we have news.” Richie smiled excitedly.

“We found,” Eddie took the package from Richie and placed on the table. “This.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Bev, Eddie and Richie would bunk off on the second day. But the starting plot is starting now, and things really start heating up.  
> \+ Mike and Stan joining the rest of the losers. Also, some Ben and how he feels about everything dbsjjsks  
> Anyway, we hope you enjoyed!!


	4. Whenever, Wherever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, a lot goes down in this chapter;))

**Bill Denbrough, Whitemore dining hall**

The week went by, quite uneventful, everyone was psyching up Stan for his swim tournament, but that was pretty much it. Oh and conversations were had over the package Eddie, Bev and Richie found. After art they went to the boys’ dorm (Beverly hid in the closet for a while).

“Open it then!” Richie spoke to Eddie, who was currently just staring at the parcel.

“You can.” Eddie shoved it in Richie’s hand.

“Why me? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Well if you’re so brave why can’t you open it-“

“Guys give it to me.” Beverly rolled her eyes, almost falling out of the closet ,but still managing to look graceful, Bill thought. “jeez you two sound like an old married couple.” She laughed.

“Really? Coz last night your mom said I sounded like-“ Richie was cut off by Beverly’s death stare.

“S-s-so what’s i-in it?” Bill looked up to Beverly who was now standing next to him.

“Weird.” She puzzled.

“What? What’s in it?” Ben spoke up suddenly.

“... nothing.”

A few days later, it was the day of the tournament. The almost empty package had pretty much flown out of the teens’ minds, well it seemed to have, Bill thought. No one really cared about the few pens that were in the box.

“Stan stop stressing! The package has nothing dangerous in it, therefore nothing to sabotage us with.” Beverly reassured. She seemed to be good at this, even if it wasn’t directly aimed at Bill. He somewhat felt...calmer?

“Shall we all go to the swimming pool while Stan gets ready?” Ben asked while picking up his lunch tray.

“No don’t all leave me, you see, what if there were more packages or what if the package was empty because they already took the weapon out or-“

“Don’t be ridiculous, nothing will happen! But, I will stay with you if you want.” Mike said. “And i’ll bring Richie because I don’t want to get bored while I wait.” He laughed.

“So I’m something you hire now when your bored? Well Richie Tozier at your service.” Richie faked pulling a cap down on his head, and the rest laughed.

“Ok so we’ll meet you guys at the pool, and we’ll save seats.” Ben got up and slid his tray to the pile.

The rest got up and started to walk to the changing rooms.

“S-s-should we g-go now?” Bill asked, looking at the clock in the hall. “W-w-we have j-j-juh-just under twenty m-minutes.”

“Ok let’s go.” Eddie said and got up. “ow shit!” He groaned as waking obviously hurt from the Stubbed toe.

They were over half way there when Eddie almost screamed in fear.

“What?! What’s wrong?!” Beverly spun around to see a pale looking Eddie.

“I forgot my inhaler!” Eddie shouted.

“Jesus Eddie I though you were actually hurt!” Ben held his chest.

“I need to go back and get it!” And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and basically ran back down the way they came.

“Wait! I’m coming! I better go with him in case something happens.” Beverly explained and turned around, shouting for Eddie to wait for her.

“Well that leaves two of us.” Ben laughed.

“C-come on lets g-get some seats r-r-re-r-res-r-reser-r- FUCK!” Bill cursed, failing at getting the word out.

“Reserved?” Ben smiled again.

“Yep.” Bill laughed and they headed to the pool.

“Front row, good sir?” Ben almost ran to them before they could be taken.

“Only t-the best f-for the h-h-high almighty!” Bill did an impression of a British emperor, although not very well.

They sat down and placed an item of clothing on six seats so everybody knew they had no chance of taking them and bill and Ben sat down in the middle of them.

“I have a good feeling about today.” Ben sighed happily.

“Me too.”

**Mike Hanlon, on his way to the changing rooms**

“I’m just saying, if we DID mix tomatoes and sugar in a blender, then technically-“

“Richie, that’s a terrible idea.” Stan said.

“No, he has a point.” Mike said, continuing with Richie’s crazy idea. “How are all the other juices in the world made? Must be a giant factory blender or something.”

“Exactly!” Richie yelled, pointing towards Mike. “So if that’s true, then we can make any juice we want, right? Like, I don’t know, fucking carrot juice or something!”

Stan just shook his head and laughed.

Mike hadn’t know Stan for long, but he could sense that Stan was nervous.

It was the tournament, and East and North tower were all relying on him, so Mike could completely under why Stan would feel a bit scared. Mike had never had that much pressure on him, but thought he’d probably explode if he did.

Stan would do fine, though. Mike hadn’t seen him swim yet, but from what Richie said, it sounded like Stan could go for the Olympics. And Mike trusted Richie’s word. Stan would do fine, better than fine, and Mike thought Stan probably knew that.

“You don’t just have to use fruit or vegetables.” Mike pointed out, trying to distract Stan. “You could use anything. Hey, you could use pizza-!”

“Holy shit, you’re right!”

“Guys, please don’t make me throw up.” Stan said, though Mike could hear the laugh in his words. “Pizza juice? Ugh, may I gag?”

Mike laughed and Richie elbowed Stan.

They were infront of the changing rooms now, a large, square, white building pushed away from the pool.

There were no students that Mike could see around, only the faint yells from the pool, where he hoped the other four were.

“Come on.” Richie said, walking forward and pushing the doors open.

He walked in, and Mike leaned towards Stan, “You okay?”

Stan looked at Mike and smiled. “I’m just nervous. It’s stupid, we know South and West don’t have anything planned, but it’s also like... What if I mess up?”

Mike smiled back. “You won’t.” he assured.

“You losers coming in anytime soon?” Richie called from the doorway.

Mike ran to meet him, and Stan trailed behind.

“We’ll give you space.” Mike called, and dragged Richie round the side, near the showers.

“I’ll be quick.” Stan called back, and disappeared around the corner.

The room was absolutely empty, a weird plus of being late. The hooks had clothes thrown over them, some slipping onto the floor.

Mike and Richie sat on an almost empty seat, and let the silence fold over them, only the pod of water dripping from the shower.

Mike look over at Richie, then back down.

He hadn’t know any of them for long, but Richie seemed the strangest out of all of them. Not because of his loud humour, or even because of his dress sense, but more about how weirdly selfless Richie seemed.

It’s not like he would chop off his hand for someone within the first three seconds of knowing them, Mike thought, but he did seem like he’d put others needs before his own. Actually, Mike thought Richie wouldn’t put his needs anywhere.

Mike took a deep breath and tried to think of a conversation starter without sounding like an annoying desperate person.

“So, what school did you go to before Whitemore?” Mike asked, hoping he didn’t sound needy.

Richie turned to face him, look of surprise on his face.

“Or did you not go to a school?” Mike asked, quickly trying to cover up any mistakes he’d made. “I mean, I worked on a farm so I was homeschooled, but-“

Richie laughed. “Jeez Mikey, it’s okay, i’m not going to combust at the sound of my old school.”

“So you did go to school.” Mike asked, edging on the conversation, relived that he hadn’t somehow managed to upset Richie.

“Yeah.” Richie said, looking over at the showers. “And I hated it too. God it was awful-“ His words fell off then, and he shifted uncomfortably.

“The farm was great.” Mike said, trying to talk up about his own life in hopes it would make Richie feel okay talking about his own. “My father had a tractor, really old, but it was ace. We’d get it out once a year, and it was sorta like Summer had come when he got it out. I loved it, honest I did. But my parents thought I wasn’t getting the sort of education I needed so...here I am.”

“You mad about that?” Richie asked, meetings Mike’s eyes. His expression was the most open Mike had seen it.

“I was.” Mike said, remembering how much he’d cried once he realised that he would have to go, “But, now i’m not so much. I mean, I get it, they’re just caring about me. And like, i’ve met all of you guys so...” He finished somewhat lamely.

Richie smiled and looked off. “Yeah, I was mad at mine. I thought it was just something to spite their fucked up son or something, but like...I don’t know. To be honest, I was terrible. Really terrible, Mike. And like, I didn’t even see until...now. Well, the train, but you know. So I don’t know. Maybe I’m mad, maybe I’m not.”

Mike smiled. “It’s okay not to know.”

Richie laughed, and Stan walked round to them at that moment.

“You guys having a real heart to heart moment huh.” He said. He was in his swimsuit, with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Yeah, Mike’s my new therapist.” Richie said, bouncing up. Mike watched Richie’s openness disappear just like that.

“Come on, then.” Mike said, standing up too.

The three made their way to the door, but a loud clink sound rang out.

“What was that?” Richie said, sounding shocked.

Stan ran to the showers.

“Nothing here!” he called

“We’re just paranoid.” Mike said, trying to laugh. “It was probably someone’s bag falling.”

Richie laughed, but Stan still looked nervous.

“Come on.” Mike repeated, and walked towards the door.

He pulled the handle down and pushed, but the door stayed closed. He pushed the door again but it didn’t move.

“It won’t open.” He said, slightly stunned.

“You’re not pushing hard enough.” Richie said, and tried the handle. He shook it a few times but the door didn’t open.

“I don’t understand-“ Richie started, but Stan pushed past both of them and started trying the handle, his breathing picking up.

“It must of got jammed.” Mike said, too worried to think straight. They’d miss the competition if they didn’t get out.

“We’ll run into it.” Richie said, adjusting his glasses. “On three okay? We’ll unjam it.”

Stan nodded, and they lined up.

“One, two, three!” Richie yelled, and they shoved the door.

It stayed closed.

“This makes no sense!” Stan yelled, getting upset. “Doors don’t just shut! We-“

“Stan, please calm down, we’ll figure this out.” Richie said, though Mike could detect the panic in his voice.

Mike tried to collect his thoughts. Stan was right, doors don’t just shut. And if this wasn’t jammed...

Mike remembered the loud clinking sound.

“Guys.” Mike said, looking up. “We’ve been locked in.”

**Eddie Kaspbrak, heading to North Tower**

Eddie walked swiftly down the corridor, a laughing Beverly Marsh at his tails.

“Eddie slow down, we have like ten minutes!” She called, cheeks rosy.

Eddie sighed and slowed down, giving his best bitchy face to Bev.

Bev came running up, skidding to a not so graceful stop, and laughed.

“Jee you could try out for track.” She said, tucking her coopery hair behind her ears.

“Ugh, running with a handful of morons? I don’t think so Bevvy. I’ll save my talent of better uses.”

Beverly laughed, and Eddie joined in, warming up.

“Why’d you care so much anyway?” She asked him.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked, looking at her. They were a few steps away from their tower, and he intended to grab his inhaler as quickly as possible before going back to the pool. He didn’t want to miss a minute of Stan swimming.

“Your inhaler.” Beverly said, voice dropping slightly. “You told me it was fake, right? So why do you still use it?”

Eddie choked slightly.

He forgot he told Beverly. Or maybe he hadn’t forgot. Maybe he was just so use to people not caring about him that he didn’t give this another thought.

“Eddie? You good?” Beverly asked, voice soft. “I didn’t mean to-“

“No, it’s not that Bev.” Eddie said, smiling in an attempt to reassure her. “It’s just... I wasn’t expecting it.”

Bev laughed softly and linked arms with him.

“Don’t tell me if you don’t want to.” She said, and started walking again.

Eddie shook his head gently. “If I’m honest with you Bev, even I don’t know. It’s like, I know they’re fake but I... everytime something small happens I just panic. And I feel like that’s not the worst part. I know she’s done this, Bev, and I know there’s nothing wrong with me... not in that sense. But uh... It helps. Somehow. I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’m sorry-“

Beverly laughed and shook her head. “No, rant all you want. It’s good to let it out sometimes.”

They fell silent for a while, walking up the stairs to North tower.

Truth to be told, Eddie likes Beverly Marsh.

He hadn’t known her for long, but it felt like he’d known her for ages.

The way she laughed, the way she talked, the way she seemed to always know what to say. Eddie thought she was one of the best people to walk this planet.

She had a totally badass style yet was so kind and gentle when you needed her the most.

Ben has pointed it out at dinner once, but Eddie also though him and Bev were similar in a way. Not in the best ways she flourished, but in other totally random things.

He felt like he could probably read her mind, if he was challenged to.

But most importantly, Beverly Marsh cared.

They were very close now, a few steps away. Eddie hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

“Eddie?” Beverly asked when they’d reached the door.

“Yeah? Eddie said, surprised at how quiet her voice was.

“A minute ago, you said you knew nothing was wrong with you in that sense.” She unlinked her arm so he could open the door. “What do you mean sense?”

Eddie pushed the door open. He looked at Bev, at how kind and open she looked, and for a moment he thought about actually telling her. But then he thought better of it and smiled gently.

“Nothing.” He said, walking into the dorm. “I just meant... I could have something but it’s not uh... asthma.”

Beverly smiled too, but Eddie could tell she wasn’t convinced. But that didn’t matter now. What mattered now was getting his inhaler and making it back in time for the tournament.

“I think it’s on my bedside table.” Eddie said, and headed over.

Beverly went to the end of the room to peer out of the window, looking over the mass of green trees, slowly turning orange.

“I can’t see the pool from here.” She reported back to Eddie, face almost pressed against the glass.

“No way.” Eddie laughed kindly, sweeping up his inhaler in relief. “Come on, let’s go.”

Beverly moved away from the curtains, and was walking to Eddie when she tripped over something sticking out under Bill’s bed.

“Oh shit!” She cried, as the contents of the parcel she’d stumbled on fell everywhere.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, walking over.

“Yeah.” Beverly smiled. “It was just a surprise, that’s all. Anyways, we should of pushed the parcel under more.”

“Let’s clean it up quick, incase Matron comes.”

Beverly nodded, and the two friends got on the floor, chucking the stuff back in.

Eddie crossed his legs, and pulled the box up.

The parcel that him, Beverly and Richie had found that Tuesday hadn’t included some terrible sabotage weapon like they’d expected. Instead, there was three trick pencils, a pastel whoopie-cushion and a number of sour looking sweets, all of which were now scattered on the floor.

“I still can’t believe we skipped math for this.” Bev said, collecting an handful of the orange sweets.

“Yeah” Eddie said, lifting up the cushion to see a slip of paper.

Curious, he twisted it over, and read what was printed on it.

 _Tommy’s_ _Joke_ _Shop_!  
_You’ve_ _ordered_ :  
- _Three_ ‘ _funny_ ’ _pens_!  
- _Whoopie_ _cushion_ ( _pink_ )!  
- _Bag_ _of_ _super_ _sour_ _sweets_!  
_Order_ 2/3  
_Thanks_ _for_ _buying_!  
_Have_ _fun_!!

“Hey, Bev?” Eddie asked, shuffling around to face her.

“Yeah?” She said, counting out the sweets and slowly dropping them into the box.

“What does ‘order two out of three’ mean?” Eddie asked, holding up the piece of paper for Beverly to see.

Bev leaned forward, carefully taking the slip out of Eddie’s hand. She studied it quickly then looked up, face pale.

“It means there was more than one parcel.”

At the same time, Eddie and Bev jumped up, running out the form at lightning speed.

“How the fuck?” Eddie yelled, breath wavering as him and Bev fell down the stairs.

“Wait!” Beverly yelled, throwing out her hand to stop Eddie.

“We have to like, think this over!” She said, panting slightly. “We can’t just parade into the pool and accuse anyone.”

Eddie looked into Bev’s green eyes and tried to find some calmness there.

“Okay.” He said, grabbing Bev’s shoulder. “We’ll go to the pool, and tell Stan there.”

“And if they have a totally well hidden plan?” Bev asked.

“Then we’re fucked.”

It took Eddie and Bev only a matter of minutes to make it from the tower to the path leading to the pool.

“I can’t see Stan.” Beverly said, counting off people as quick as she could.

They were a few seconds away, but Eddie stopped in his tracks.

“Mike and Richie aren’t there either.” He said. “Which is weird because I see Bill and Ben-“

“The changing rooms!” Beverly said. “That’s were they were going!”

“No, they would of been changed by now.” Eddie said, glancing over to Bev, her hair in her eyes.

“Exactly! What if, somehow, they couldn’t get from there to the pool!”

Eddie gaped at her, then look a sweeping look around again.

“Let’s go.” He said, grabbing her hand and taking off running.

They crashed back down the path, hair flying about, distant cheers from the pool.

Eddie hoped they weren’t too late.

The two crossed the yard and skidded to a halt in front of the changing rooms.

Beverly wasted no time, and ran forward, trying the handle.

“It won’t open!” She yelled.

Eddie came running up behind her, worry building up in his chest.

“Can you hear anyone inside?” He asked, joining her at the door.

Bev put her ear against the door as Eddie desperately tried the handle.

“I can hear footsteps from  
the back, I think.” She said, moving her head back and shaking her curls away from her face.

“That’s gotta be them!” Eddie said, and ran round the back, Beverly close on his heels.

They rounded to the side, and studied it rapidly.

There was a single, rectangle window pressed into the wall, and a old looking drain pipe running over it. Apart from that, the wall was completely blank.

“There has to be a way!” Beverly said, but Eddie could hear the edge of defeat in her voice.

He took a few deep breathes and tried to think.

They needed to get into the room, and considering the door was somehow locked, this window seemed like their best option. All they needed to do was climb up it.

Eddie tilted his head, sizing up the drain pipe. It was slightly off, or he reckoned they could shimmy up it. It just needed to be a bit more down...

“I’ve got it!” Eddie yelled suddenly, and Bev jumped. “Can we use your belt?”

Beverly stared at him for a moment, before smiling. She loosened it and handed it over.

“You can have it back after this.” Eddie assured her, but Bev just laughed slightly.

“Don’t really need it anyway.” She said, “It was mostly a statement.”

Eddie laughed to, relief flooding him.

Don’t get too excited.

“Give me a hand.” Eddie said, and Bev helped Eddie knot the belt, until there was a wonky sort of circle.

They threw it until it looped around the open box of the pipe.

It hung down, at chests reach.

It all looked very intimidating from where Eddie was standing, but he tried not to think about that for long.

If all went well, hopefully this unspoken plan would let them climb up to the window. Then all they needed to do was open the window itself.

“I’ll go first.” Bev said, and took a running start.

She jumped at the wall, and grabbed onto the pipe with one hand and the belt with her other.

Quickly as she could, she made her way up, grabbing onto the window and pulling until she was sitting on the window sill.

Eddie went soon after, mimicking Bev’s technique. He managed to make it up, taking only a little longer than Bev.

“Okay.” Eddie said, sitting with his knees to his chest, facing Bev. “We’ll try and kick the window until it opens. Then, we’ll slip through.”

Bev nodded.

“Now!” Eddie yelled, and they both kicked as best they could sitting.

There was a noise from inside, then silence. The window moved slightly.

“Again!” Eddie yelled, and him and Bev kicked the door.

Voices started inside, too quiet for Eddie to make out.

“Come on, we’re close!” Bev said, and they both gave it a heavy kick.

It pushed forward, opening.

Eddie could of fallen off the window ledge in relief.

“Hey.” Bev said, looking over at him. “Before we go in and save these idiots lives, you should know something.”

“What’s that?” Eddie said, getting ready to fall through the window gap.

“You didn’t use your inhaler once.” Bev said.

And with that, she jumped through the window, leaving Eddie stunned.

**Ben Hanscom, by the pool edge**

“Surely the others should be here by now.” Ben paced back and forth along the rows of chairs they tried to reserve. “It starts in... six minutes and eight seconds- six, five four three two on-“

“Ben c-c- calm down I know how time works, f-funnily enough, now s-sit down I’m g-geh-getting dizzy just seeing you w-walk that much.” Bill’s eyes followed Ben with every step he took.

“This can’t be right. Something is up. Stan would never be this late to anything! It would probably kill him!” Ben hadn’t known Stan for long but he has noticed how he is never. Late. For. Anything.

“Y-You’re over th-thinking Ben.” Bill shook his head, making a grab for Ben’s wrist to make him sit down.

“Careful! That watch was my grandads! Speaking of watches, WE HAVE FOUR MINUTES AND FORTY NINE SECONDS UNTIL IT STARTS!” Ben practically yelled.

“We don’t give two shits about your ability to tell the time!” A boy from west tower shouted across.

“Y-Yeah? Well we d-don’t give t-two shits a-ab-about you! S-so how about you d-do us th- the honours of f-fucking off?” Bill shouted back. His group all imitated Bill’s stutter and it annoyed Ben immensely, but no way in hell would he start a row when he was this anxious.

Ben sat there with his leg wobbling up and down uncontrollably. “They have three minutes. Why the fuck has no one showed up yet? It can’t possibly take ten minutes to grab an inhaler and run back.”

Bill was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Actually, y-you’re r-right. They should p-pruh-probably be getting h-here by n-now.”

“What do we do? We can’t let it start without Stan! He’ll be devastated. Plus we will never hear the end of it from south and west. Oh fuck two minutes now.” Ben was up and pacing again, eyes darting over the field in hope to see five kids running along.

None came.

“O-ok I have an i-idea!” Bill sprang up and took ahold of Ben’s shoulders to stop him from moving. “We need to stall! And by that, I mean you have to get in the water and start drowning, then I will see you and call for help. Once I jump in the water to get you, I will start drowning so they have to save two kids. You got it?”

Ben looked at him blankly, but after a couple seconds he started it nod slowly. “You didn’t stutter once.”

“Oh, y-yeah.” Bill looked a bit zoned out for a second, but returned to his determined state shortly after.

Ben suddenly turned to the pool a drew in a deep breathe.

Everybody is ok, just stall for a few minutes. Everybody is ok.

“R-Ready?” Bill whispered, “and... Go!”

Ben ‘slipped’ into the pool and started splashing about wildly like a puppy learning to swim, but in this case, the puppy would be more elegant.

“Oh no!” Bill yelled, a little too loudly. “Somebody help, Ben is drowning!” And with that, he jumped into the pool. Ben coughed and spluttered, making it as real as possible, and another crash came into the pool. Next thing he knew, he was being hauled up by Mr Valley and was laid on the side of the pool.

He looked to his left and saw Bill still ‘struggling’ around in the pool. Once the coach had pulled them both out, Bill got up and stood over Ben.

“They here yet?” Ben whispered.

“N-No.”

And without any noticed, Ben rolled back into the pool and started to splash what seemed like the entire school.

“Flips sake.” Ben heard Mr Valley say before jumping into the pool again.

“BEN!” Bill shouted. “THEY ARE COMING.” Ben suddenly stopped struggling and got out of the pool, leaving Mr Valley’s expression almost stormy.

“We did it!” Ben high fived Bill.

“Can I a-applaud you f-f-for your acting s-skills though for a s-second.” Bill laughed although it was quickly replaced with a worried expression. “Your w-watch? Is it b-b-bro-broken? I’m so s-sorry if it’s broken, I know it’s y-your grandads and-“

“Oh it’s not really, I just wanted you to stop nagging at me.” Ben laughed, feeling slightly bad.

The five got closer and closer along the field.

“T-told you I h-had a good f-feeling about t-today.” Bill smiled at Ben.

“Well you weren’t entirely wrong, in fact, I had a fun time.” Ben returned the smile. Not because what they just did was utterly out of his comfort zone, but because,

He had made a great friend in Bill.

**Beverly Marsh, in the boys changing room**

“Heya fellas.” Beverly said, smiling at her three friends, all backed against the wall.

“How the-“ Mike started, but at that moment Eddie Kaspbrak fell through the window, landing on his feet best he could, belt grabbed in his hand.

“Jee I’d hate to be stuck in here.” He commented, looking round at everything with a rapid pace.

Beverly grinned at the three, unable to help herself.

They’d known nothing about South and West’s plan, nothing at all, but they’d still managed to save Stan’s chance at the swim tournament.

If she hadn’t tripped over the parcel by chance and Eddie hadn’t found the receipt, then they’d still wouldn’t of known.

And even then, Bev continued to think, they might of not climbed up to the window.

But they had. And it was paying off. The look on their faces might of been worth the whole thing, but Beverly knew that they still had a half completed task on their hands: getting Stan to the swim tournament.

“I-“ Richie said, looking from Bev to Eddie with a look of shock on his face.

“Missed us?” Eddie asked, smiling at Richie.

“You guys alright?” Beverly asked, looking at them.

Mike and Richie were standing up, mouths open in surprise. Stan was sitting on a bench, close to tears, eyes wide as he stared up at them.

“I’d marry you tomorrow, if I wasn’t about to faint.” He said shakily.

“Explain. Just explain.” Richie said, but Eddie shook his head.

“We don’t have time.” He said pulling the belt, and got right down to business. “You need to climb out the window as best you can. When you get to the ledge just jump, it’s not that high.”

Mike nodded, and helped Stan get up as swiftly as he could, getting in a line behind Eddie.

“How long were you in here?” Beverly asked Stan, back of the line.

“I’m not even sure.” He said, voice still weak. “Over ten minutes. I was just to worried I’d miss the swim competition and let everyone down, I couldn’t even think straight.”

“You’ll make it, just hang in there.” Mike assured Stan from in front.

Beverly turned her attention back to the front, just in  
time to watch Eddie scarper up the wall. He stood on a bench under the window, and pulled himself up by the belt, finally throwing himself onto the window ledge.

Quickly, he threw the belt end down to Richie.

Richie clambered up, Eddie grabbing his arms when he was close to the top and pulling him onto the window ledge.

They both held hands and jumped out.

“You okay?” Beverly yelled.

She heard a cry of “We’re fine!” from outside, before Mike began to climb up.

He reached the top quicker than her and Eddie, and helped pull Stan up.

“Should we wait?” Mike yelled down to Beverly.

“Just jump outside, I’ll be fine!” Beverly shouted up, and she saw Mike and Stan disappear as they fell out the window.

Beverly took a running leap, and grabbed her belt, praying it would still be secure.

She hurdled herself up to the window, scrambling onto the ledge. She managed to sit down, legs dangling over the side, and leaned over to the pipe, untying her belt.

It didn’t take long to get off, and she wound it up in her hands, glancing down.

Eddie was helping Richie up, laughing at something he’d said. To their left, Mike was trying to calm Stan down, hands on his shoulders.

“Mind out!” Beverly called over the ledge.

She dropped her belt, then scooted off herself, landing on the grass.

For a moment all they did was stare at each other, shocked that they’d actually done it. Mike came to his senses first.

“Let’s go!” He yelled, grabbing Stan’s hand and running to the pool.

Beverly took of after, Richie and Eddie doing the same.

The five sped down the path at top speed, hoping that they weren’t too late.

Beverly ran down the path her and Eddie had clambered down only a few moments ago, trying to piece the last ten minutes together.

Stan was there now, along with Mike and Richie. And they’d make it to the pool in time. Because they couldn’t be too late, could they? Stan was up first, she knew that. But they couldn’t of started yet...

Beverly remembered the cheers her and Eddie heard and ran faster, pool coming into sight.

“I don’t think they’ve started!” Mike called from the front, and Bev could of sworn she saw Stan’s body relax.

The five reached the pool clumsily, Eddie and Mike yelling to stop, Richie doing loud cheers, and Stan almost crying with relief.

“Woah, woah, woah!” The swimming instructor said, walking over to them with a confused look on his face.

The people around the pool fell almost completely silent, all eyes on them.

Bev held her breath.

“What’s going on?” Mr valley said, eyes moving to each of them in turn, taking in how panicked some looked to how relieved others did.

“The uh, changing rooms door got jammed Sir.” Stan said, voice calmer now. “I’m in the swim race, Stan Uris, and we thought I might miss it.”

The instructor broke out into a smile. “Must say Stan, I was worried.” He said, jotting something down on his clipboard. “We were delayed, luckily, or you would of missed your chance. Come on now, let’s get you ready.”

He pulled Stan away, waving at the four left to find seats.

“Thank fuck!” Eddie said in relief, leading them to the seats around the pool. “If Stan missed his go, I’d probably jump into the pool!”

Eddie navigated them to where Bill and Ben were sitting, both having an animated conversation.

“What happened to you?” Richie asked, sitting down next to Eddie.

Beverly glanced over, dropping onto her seat.

Ben was soaking wet, hair drying in the beating sun. Bill was grinning next to him, also wet looking.

“Long story.” Ben said, blushing. “I’ll explain later, but let’s watch-“

“Ladies and Gentleman!” Mr Valley called from over a megaphone, standing at the head of the pool. “It’s my pleasure to open up Whitemore’s annual swim tournament! And starting up off this year is Phillip Cataract and Stan Uris!”

Cheers broke out as the tournament began.

Stan was like an angel underwater, amazingly graceful and swift. He beat everyone he went against, streamline and smooth.

At every opportunity, the six would cheer him on, almost deafening the people around them.

And as Beverly stood up in her seat for what must of been the tenth time, she thought that she wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Whitemore included.

At the end of the hour, North and East tower had won, Stan bagging himself the star swimmer.

“Well done Stan!” Beverly yelled, running to hug him by the pool side.

Everyone was getting up now, heading back to their dorms or to eat something in the hall for tea.

“Thanks.” He grinned, practically glowing. “I couldn’t of done it with out you guys though.”

Richie awed and the seven hugged, laughing.

“Look how cute!” someone said, and Beverly broke away from her embrace.

Standing above her was the West Tower person who’d laughed at her on Tuesday. He was in a swimsuit and she remembered him in the water moments ago. He was called James, she thought.

Behind him stood a fair chunk on West and South, all looking bitter.

“Sore losers, huh?” Richie said, straightening up.

“Losers? Please, we played way better than you.” James mocked, and a few people cheered in agreement.

Without realising it, the rest of North and East tower were now standing behind the seven, all sneering and booing.

“If you’re so good, why did you lose?” Audra called from behind, and a few people cheered in agreement.

“We were so close.” James said, moving closer. “That goddam skeleton key almost had you! But you all outsmarted it, huh?”

“You played dirty!” Beverly yelled, crossing her arms.

“Too harsh for you?” A girl called Harriet called, and some people in South and West snickered.

“We won you lost, whatcha gonna do about it?” Stan asked, anger in his eyes.

James smiled weirdly, the looked around.

“We challenge you,” He called dramatically, “To war!”

Mummers started around and Beverly tilted her head. War? Like prank wars? Swim wars? Just war? Everything and Everyone going against each other.

She thought back to the leaflet for Whitemore, how she had held it with hope, hope that she could escape. But never would she of expected this.

It could change everything.

James stuck his hand out.

Stan looked down at it for a moment, the met James’s eyes.

He grabbed the hand.

“It’s on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the story really moves fast, so hOld on.  
> ++Bev and Eddie’s friendship? Pure. Bill and Ben’s friendship? Pure. Mike and Richie’s friendship? Pu-  
> But yeah, Me (Emma) and Alice hoped you enjoyed this, it was quite a bit so the next chapter may be shorter. And of course Eddie and Bev would have to save Mike, Richie and Stan. (And of course Ben and Bill would fake drown)  
> Anyway, hope you like it!!


	5. What The Hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter than last chapter, but something very important happens at the end.

**Stan Uris, North and East Towers common room.**

All of North and East towers were in their common room, after lights out, on a Sunday night, brainstorming.

“What are we going to do then? It’s war now, we have nothing!” Audra spoke up.

“I think maybe we can-“ Richie got cut off, Stan saw, although no one else seemed to notice.

“Yeah! They have probably set up something now in fact they are probably setting it up ready for us to fall into the trap of doom!” Greta rambled. “And I can’t even begin to think what will happen to my hai-“

“Shut up for one second about your goddamned hair! Please and thank you.” Beverly rolled her eyes.

“But guys I think we could-“ Richie was cut off, yet again.

“Next thing you know we’ll be taken hostage somewhere-“

“GUYS!” The room fell quiet. “CAN WE PLEASE LISTEN TO RICHIE FOR A SECOND.” Eddie yelled, shocking half of the teens.

“Thank you, now what I was saying was-“

“What are you kids doing in here at this time of night! I ought to go to Mrs Wilson about this!” Matron bellowed into the common room. Richie slumped down in his chair in annoyance. The room looked down and Stan counted how many times Ben’s leg wobbled up and down in worry. He counted 27 times.

“Now get to your dorms before I change my mind.” She said sternly, but Stan saw something twinkle in her eye as if to say: ‘this isn’t the first time this has happened.’

“Ok guys.” Mike whispered. “Meet here at five in the morning, got it! We’ll carry on planning and hear what Richie has to say.”

They walked back in silence and once Stan’s head hit the pillow, he was out like a light, for the first time in a while. Just as the others were.

Stan got up as fast as he could the next morning, taking no chance of being late. They would think of him as a let down, and Stan couldn’t let that happen just as he was making friends.

He crept down the stairs and, flipped open the lock to the common room, and took a seat next to the calming fire. He watched it glow and every so often spark to life, making shapes. Mesmerising, Stan thought.

“Oh, hey Stan.” Mike walked in, yawing. “What are you doing in here this early? We said five, not half four.” He chuckled and took a seat next to him.

“Didn’t want to be late.” Stan smiled.

“So, do you have a phobia of being late?” Mike asked, looking at Stan.

“Well, not exactly, but I just get worried about what people think of me.” Stan states into the fire. “I know it’s stupid-“

“It’s not stupid, I completely understand where you’re coming from.” Mike reassured. “You just need to stop caring what people think of you, because in the end, does it really matter?”

“I- I guess not.” Stan replied, now looking at Mike. “Thanks Mike, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, the least I could do for a friend.” Mike replied, nudging his shoulder. Stan looked down again and smiled to himself, he really had made a friend in Mike.

“Ha, now it’s my turn to ask! You guys having a real heart to heart moment huh?” Richie stampeded into the room, followed by Bill, Eddie, Ben and the rest of the two towers. It was Mike’s turn to look down now.

“He’s my therapist.” Stan laughed, in which Richie retuned.

Once everybody had arrived in the common room, Eddie spoke up, “will everybody please listen to Richie’s idea now? It’s been killing me all night!” Guess not everyone fell asleep as quickly as he last night, Stan thought.

“Ok so my idea is that we order from Tommy’s shop!” Richie almost fell over his words in excitement.

“But, h-how do we know w-wh-what to order?” Bill chimed in.

“Oh I know! My cousin who came here before-“ Chloe was cut off, this time, by Greta.

“We know your cousin came here before! Get over it! Ugh meanwhile, has anyone got a hair brush-“

“Oh my- stop talking about your hair! Please. And. Thank you!” Bev pretty much shouted. “Now let Chloe speak!” She hissed.

“Right, so as I said, my cousin ordered off here before, so I have an idea of what we can order!” Chloe said happily.

“Ok, who wants to talk on the phone?” Ben asked.

“I’ll do it,” Richie chuckled. “And i’ll turn on my charm so we can get a discount.” Richie mocked flicking hair behind his shoulders. Stan saw Eddie roll his eyes, although his smile didn’t falter.

A few minutes later Richie started speaking into the phone. “Ah, hello yes. We would like to make an order please..... so we would like,” Richie looked up to Chloe and she mouthed something. “A uh some fake... mugs? Oh wait sorry bugs, and uh,” he looked up again. “And some foul tasting mustard.” He took the phone away from his ear.

“Chloe what the fuck?” He laughed quietly and returned the phone to his ear. “...yes that’s all for-.... Whitemore towers please- but come to the back door not the front!... n-no reason...yes we’ll pay when you get here... WHA- I mean uh any chance of making that any lower...no? Ok good bye now.” Richie hung up the phone. “... 15 dollars.”

The whole room exploded into worry.

“15 DOLLARS?!”

“What kind of money do they think we have?”

“I call bull shit!”

Stan stayed quiet throughout all of this, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t having the best time of his life at that current moment.

“And it’s coming in two weeks.” Richie added hastily.

“So much for the charm!” Greta cried.

“Guys let’s all calm down. If we don’t go to town, we’ll be able to hopefully save up the money for it. Ok?” Mike said sensibly. “Now, we need to get back to our dorms before the teachers come check on us.”

“But what are we gonna prank them with in the meantime?” Beverly asked.

“Ben, you’re good on architecture right? We’ll use Ben!” Richie exclaimed, making everybody in the room face palm there foreheads.

“Richie, architecture is completely different to any of thi-“ Ben tried to explain, but ending up just shaking his head and going along with it.

Everybody made there way back up to the dorms, as they did last night, although this time none of them could even think of sleeping with both excitement and anticipation running through their veins.

Once they had gotten changed and ready for first period, they made there way to the dining hall for breakfast.

The seven sat in there usual places, it turned out that the teachers didn’t care where they sat, Stan realised after Bev had sat with them for the fourth time without being noticed.

“I do hope they haven’t already planned a prank.” Ben sat there looking worried.

“It’s ok Ben.” Beverly reassured.

“Yeah, they probably aren’t even smart enough to set it up correct.” Richie smirked. A couple of seconds later, the first bell rang and half the hall groaned.

“R-right lets g-g-go” Bill got up and threw his bag across his shoulders. Stan immediately shot up out of his daydream and also put his bag on.

Hold on. He thought. Remember what Mike said? It doesn’t matter what people think of you.

And with that, Stan slowed down a bit and walked next to Mike.

He was just in awe at how people just naturally know what to say.

Probably a gift, that Stan didn’t have.

 

**Richie Tozier, heading to math.**

“You know, skipping math again sounds pretty appealing-.”

“No Richie.” Bev cut him off.

They walked to math laughing at jokes Richie had made, whether they were genuinely laughing, or laughing just to make him feel good, Richie hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

They waited outside to be let in the classroom for at least five minutes after the second bell went. Richie saw Stan’s foot tapping on the ground repeatedly.

“Right, sorry you uh may come in now.” Mr smith shouted through the classroom door. Greta started walking in when Stan pushed past her, slamming open the door, but being greeted by-

“oH MY GOD!” Greta screeched, but this was soon drowned out by Eddie’s ear-piercing scream.

“WHAT THE FU-“ Eddie was, quickly, cut off before yelling a non child-of-Jesus word.

“Eds! Eds it’s ok it’s just some coloured goop.” Richie tried to calm him a tad, promptly failing.

“bOY YOU ARE TREADING ON SOME THIN FUCKING ICE CALLING ME EDS IN THIS STATE.” He yelled trying to scrape off the blue tinted gloop. Richie saw Beverly almost run into the room to see the scene, and her expression quickly changed into a gentle one, doing a heck of a lot better job at reassuring Eddie than Richie had.

“M-my m-m-my hAIR-“

“Greta if you so much as mention a hair tie again I will throw you out of a window. So stop! Please and-“ Beverly was cut off.

“Please and thank you. I know.” Greta dramatically rolled her eyes and carried on stroking her hair.

Richie looked over to Stan, who had not said a word since the goop had hit the four, but he saw his state return to the state he was in when they were stuck in the changing rooms.

“Oh my word guys I’m so sorry I had no idea that was there.” Mr smith said apologetically.

“How In the name of the Lord did he not realise a fucking bucket hanging above the door?!” Eddie whispered to Richie, making him wheeze slightly.

“Ok you four, go to matron and have a shower. I’ll talk to your next class’ teacher to inform them why you aren’t there.” And with that Mr Smith dismissed a: red faced, fuming Eddie Kaspbrak, an almost-in-tears-because-of-her-hair Greta Bowie, a silent, slightly upset Stan Uris (of what he could see) and a half laughing, happy (because he gets to miss math and art and possibly English) Richie Tozier.

“I know who did it.” Eddie said, still crimson faced. “It’s those south and west dipshits. We should’ve expected some shit like this.”

“What are we gonna say to matron?” Stan spoke for the first time, nervously.

“The truth, it’s not like we’re gonna get in trouble. It wasn’t our fault.” Richie said, reasonably.

“W-what’s that? Something sensible coming out of- huh? Trash-mouth’s mouth?” Greta mocked fainting in shock.

“You’re not funny Greta, shut up would you?” Eddie rolled his eyes and continued walking.

The walk was pretty much silent apart from the odd grumble from Eddie or Greta, or the odd joke from Richie, making a few laugh, although getting shut down by Greta after every one.

“Has anyone ever told you how good you are at making jokes?” Greta smiled, sarcastically.

“Actually no, but they shou-“

“That’s because they wouldn’t want to lie straight to your face!”

They finally found matrons office and piled into the room.

“Woah! Woah woah woah. Stop. Out. Your not coming into to my tidy work space in that state.” She jumped from her seat, ushering them back into the corridor. “Now. What on earth happened to you lot?”

“Well,” Greta sighed dramatically, “we were just walking into our math classroom and we were greeted with blue gloop! It was awfully traumatic and I can’t imagine what the effort will be getting it out of my not-so-luscious hair!” Greta bawled.

The three shot her looks that could’ve pierced through her hair there and then, wonder what she would think to that. Richie smirked to himself.

“Let me guess, South and West did this to you?” Matron smiled subtly, watching the past times that this had happened flicker before her eyes.

“How did you know?” Stan looked intrigued.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been notified of this, trust me.” She started hobbling off back into her office, grabbing four towels and handing one to each of them. “Have a shower, don’t be alarmed if the goop doesn’t come off at first, it just takes a little while longer to get out of your hair.” Richie heard Greta sniff slightly.

“Greta, the girls showers are to the right, boys to the left. Come back here for your PE clothes and i’ll tell you what to do with your other ones.”

“You’re telling me we have to wash our own clothes?!” Greta cried.

“Hush now, chop chop!” Matron clapped her hands and everyone sped off to the showers.

“I don’t know how we are gonna get them back, but we are not gonna sit around doing nothing for two weeks waiting for some parcels while they constantly ruin us.” Eddie said determined.

After about twenty minutes for the boys and, at least, one hour and forty five minutes for Greta, they all met back at matrons office, somewhat cleaner than before, and collected there PE kits and got changed.

“Now, i’ll teach you how to wash your clothes.” Matron demonstrated, and after about five tries from them all, everyone got it right, all but Richie.

“Gods sake! I will never get the hang of this shit.” Richie cursed, throwing his trousers into the soap, bubbles flying up.

Eddie smiled and rolled his eyes. “Like this. See?” He handed it back to Richie, although quickly taking it away again. “No dumbass, like this.” He grabbed Richie’s hands and placed them to where his hands were. Richie tried again. “Yeah, there you go, you did it.”

“Thanks Eds.” Richie smiled, cheerfully.

“Do not call m-“

“Call you Eds, I know.” Richie looked at Greta, then at Stan, who was apparently enjoying all the cleanliness, then back down at Eddie.

“So how long have the pranks been going now?” Matron suddenly spoke up.

“Well today was the first hit. It was agreed on Saturday. We have no idea what to do though.” Eddie said, and matron smiled and looked down.

“You’ve got to play them at their own game, you see? Give them a taste of there own medicine.”

The four looked slightly shocked at this, expecting her to say something sensible on how to be mature young adults. But she didn’t. And that made Richie like her even more.

They threw their clothes into the tumble dryer and waited twenty minutes for them to dry.

“Well I must say, I am glad we got to miss three lessons!” Stan smiled as they were walking back to the food hall.

“Well as they say: Every cloud does have a silver lining.” Richie quotes and Eddie chuckled.

“I guess so.” Eddie said. Greta had stayed quiet, for once.

“What’s up Greta? Cat got your tongue?” Richie laughed and Greta flipped him off.

Richie smiled happily to himself, the first half hadn’t gone half as bad as he thought it had turned out to be, he even learnt a new skill! Just as he said,

Every cloud has a silver lining.

 

**Bill Denbrough, English classroom.**

Bill tapped his pen impatiently, mind coming up blank.

“T-t-they’re so lucky.” He said for what must of been the one hundredth time, leaning back in his chair.

“One way of looking at it.” Beverly said, not looking up. “On one hand they had goop thrown over their heads, but on the other hand they missed class.”

“Three c-c-classes.” Bill grumbled, dropping his pen and letting it roll to the edge of the desk, before catching it. “Isn’t that a b-bit of an oh-oh-overkill?”

Beverly sighed and looked up. “Guess so.” She said. “But like, isn’t it bothering you?”

“D-d-definitely.”

“No, not like that.” She said, twiddling her pen. “As in, South and West already have one on us. Heck, we still don’t have any proper equipment.”

“We h-h-have one o-of their p-p-parcels.” Bill pointed out, then sighed dramatically. “Still, I’d m-m-miss English for j-just about a-a-anything.”

“I can pour some cranberry juice on you, if you want.”

“h-ha ha.”

Bev grew quiet then leaned in close to Bill. “I still think we should take action.”

Bill tilted his head, thinking.

Beverly was right. As it stood, they were behind, 0-1. And, that being put into perspective, they were losing. But for how long? They couldn’t just whip out a whoopee cushion and call it a day, could they? They’d have to actually think this one over, actually work as a sort of team.

Bill hadn’t really thought about it on Saturday, but the war and the swim race were two very different things, and that only made it harder for them. South and West had proposed the war, Bill had later realised, because it played to their strengths. They already had stuff ordered and prepared. Fuck, they’d already used a skeleton key. They could fight a war, and they could win it. North and East, however, had no experience in anything of this sort.

Not that all was darkness and gloom though. Their delivery would arrive soon enough, and then they would really crack on. Bill felt sure they could really do something, if they put their minds to it.

Bill was just about to tell Beverly what he was thinking when Bev leaned forward in her chair.

“Oh my gosh.” She said, giggling.

Bill turned around to see what she was looking at, and snorted in response.

Outside the window stood Eddie, Richie, Greta and Stan. They were all in their p.e kits and were waving excitedly at the class.

Bill noted that their hair, especially Greta’s, was damp.

“They m-m-must of had to shower.” He said to Bev, who laughed quietly in response.

Almost the whole class were waving back at them now, grateful to have someone interesting happen in this particularly dull lesson.

“They should be more subtle.” Bev started. “Or Mrs Foy will-“

But at that moment, their English teacher stood up, rage on her face.

“Right!” She yelled, and Bill winced. “I don’t appreciate you messing around in my lesson! You all-“

Mrs Foy stopped talking and her eyebrows crumbled, understanding that they were more distracted than messing around.

“Shit!” Beverly breathed, clearly noticing the development too. She started waving her hands desperately, in an odd attempt to let the four know that Mrs Foy was coming.

A few people replicated her movements, not wanting to give the other towers more upper ground than they already had.

Stan got it first, and grabbed Richie and Greta, dragging them down. Greta wrapped her arms around Eddie’s waist last minute, pulling him down too.

Mrs Foy finished her walk and glanced out the window, before looking back at the class.

“One more trick like that, and it will be a whole class detention!” She practically spat.

The bell rang at that point, ending North and East’s pain short.

Bill stuffed his books into his rucksack, swinging it over his back.

“Let’s g-g-get out of h-here.” He said quickly, and him and Beverly walked out swiftly, keeping their heads down.

Once they were out of the classroom, they practically ran to get seats, laughing on the way.

“Did you see their faces when Stan grabbed them?” Bev said, and Bill laughed louder.

“Guys!” Someone shouted, and Bill looked around to see Stan, waving them over.

“S-s-speak of the devil.” Bill mused, heading over.

Eddie, Richie and Greta were also sitting at the table, and Bill got ready to ask a thousand questions.

“That was one of the funniest things-“ Someone else said, and Bill looked over to see the rest of East tower, Audra in the lead.

Once all of East and North tower had sat down (pulling two tables together in the process), the questions flooded in.

“Do you know who did it?”

“Why the fuck did you miss three lessons?”

“Can we kill South and West?”

“Did Matron say anything?”

“Cool it down, kids.” Richie said, doing a (probably bad) impression of someone Bill didn’t know.

“Do we know who did it?” Mike asked.

“Obviously it was West and South.” Eddie said, anger glinting very slightly in his eyes. “But no, we don’t know the exact people. My best guess is all of them, which makes it ten times harder for us.”

There was a mumble of agreement and Greta head-planted the table with a groan.

“Well, if that’s so, we should probably find out exactly what they’re planning.” Beverly said, and Bill could see she was trying to push everyone on.

“Yeah.” He said, backing her up. “Me and Bev could go to where they’re eating, try to eavesdrop and see if we hear anything. That way, at least we’ll be ready.”

The was loud replies of agreement, and Bill felt happy with his plan. So happy, that he didn’t notice the lack of his stutter.

“Let’s go now!” Patty called out, eagerly.

“Do you know where they’re eating?” Eric asked, voice calm. “I can’t see them in here.”

“Outside.” Eddie said. “We saw them as we passed.”

After a quick blow down of the plan, and after Greta prayed a hair-tie off someone, North and East tower headed outside, crowding around the back door so they wouldn’t be seen.

“Ouch, move it trashmouth!” Greta hissed, trying to peek around Richie.

“Well, last night in bed-“ Richie started, but was silenced almost immediately with a series of groans.

“Do y-y-you see anything?” Bill asked, standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to see them.

“Well, some are definitely there.” Richie said, leaning around the wall more. “It doesn’t look like all of them though. Maybe half, bit more.”

“They’re probably getting food.” Ben reasoned.

Richie moved back behind the wall. “You guys ready?” He asked Bill and Bev.

Beverly looked over at Bill and he smiled to tell her that he was.

“Sure.” She said, and they both walked to the edge of the wall, looking around it.

Sitting at a table were a cluster of South and West tower students, some of which Bill knew the names of. They seemed to be talking quietly, and they all looked very wary.

“W-w-what’s the p-pl-plan?” Bill asked.

Beverly looked at him. “Just walk past quietly. Try not to draw attention to yourself and only speak if spoken to.”

“G-gotcha” Bill said confidently, even though his heart was beating a bit faster than it should of been.

“Now!” Bev whispered, and they both began to walk out, close together.

It wasn’t that far away, but they slowed their steps slightly, as to not draw attention to themselves.

“You hear anything?” Bev asked quietly as they were passing the table, and Bill looked up.

James looked up too and met Bill’s eyes, and Bill looked back down quickly again.

“T-t-they saw m-m-me.” He said urgently.

“Who?”

“Ju-ju-james. T-t-the tall o-one.”

Beverly glanced up then looked back down again. “You sure? Because-“

Beverly began to speak but was cut off as a jet of water hit her face.

She screamed, and Bill spun around, only to get hit by water, splashing his face.

“What the-!” He yelled, and made a grab for Bev’s hand.

Five or six South and West students were surrounding them, each armed with a water gun.

“Run!” Beverly yelled.

They both sprinted away, getting hit in every direction with freezing water.

Bill could feel it dripping down his back, and his wet hair was plastered to his face. He ran forward, thinking almost humorously how badly the plan had gone.

Bill and Bev rounded the wall, and fell down, completely soaked.

“You walked right into that one, didn’t you?” Stan asked.

Bev started to laugh, and soon Bill did too, unable to help himself. He supposed there was something funny in getting attacked by water guns while trying to do the opposite.

“Guys?” Eddie attempted, but gave up after a few seconds. “We’ll work on this tomorrow.” He said.

Bill just laughed harder.

 

**Beverly Marsh, Whitemore dining hall.**

“You missed English because of Greta’s hair?” Beverly practically laughed, stabbing her mash potato with her fork.

“‘Twas between life and death.” Richie said dramatically, clutching his heart. “Why, to go English with wet hair? God, what punishment?”

Bev laughed along with the rest of them, and took a bite of mash. It was dinner time, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved that Monday was over. Now, she was at a table with Richie, Eddie, Mike, Bill, Stan and Ben, all eating happily.

“You know, I feel like we could really do something.” Ben said thoughtfully, and Bill pointing his spoon at him.

“Exactly what I w-w-was thu-thinking.” He said, then took a bite of sausage. “We could l-like make an ex-explosion.”

Beverly could already see some issues with this statement, but she remained tight-lipped. All in all, she thought they’d come out on top, even if it took hell to do so.

“You know, we could-“ Ben started, but was cut off.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Mrs Henderson said, standing at the head at their table. “But can I please see Richie, Eddie and Beverly?”

Beverly felt her heart drop to her feet. Why would their form tutor need to speak to her? What had she done?

“Uh, Sure.” Richie said, giving Bev and Eddie a look.

The three got up and walked outside of the hall, following Mrs Henderson’s fast steps.

Mrs Henderson pushed through the double doors, and Beverly followed her through, pushing so it wouldn’t swing shut.

They lined up against the wall, and Mrs Henderson frowned, turning towards them. “I’ve just been notified that you three missed Tuesday’s math lesson.”

Beverly’s eye widened and she cursed at herself for not remembering sooner. Of course they wouldn’t of been lucky enough to get away with it. Beverly Marsh just didn’t have that kind of luck.

“I’m deeply disappointed.” Mrs Henderson continued, and Beverly realised that this was the first time she’d actually got mad at any of them. “I don’t know the meaning of your absences, but we do not tolerate laziness at Whitemore! I want full attendance from my form, and I hope you know that!”

Beverly twisted her foot awkwardly on the floor, carful not to make eye contact. When they’d gone off that Tuesday, they hadn’t given a second thought about being caught, and she regretted that now. What could she say? That she was ill? Lost? Beverly doubted any of those would work on Mrs Henderson, especially now. She willed herself to look innocent as possible.

“We were all at swimming practice on Monday, and Uh we got a cold from the water.” Richie said, attempting his best sweet voice.

Mrs Henderson tilted her head dangerously in his direction. “I was notified about that, Tozier, and I would be willing to believe it. However, Miss Marsh and Mr Kaspbrak we’re not in actual fact at the swimming tryouts.”

“We don’t-“ Eddie began, but Mrs Henderson silences him with a glare.

“Richie, please go back into the hall, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this once. But please mark my words, I mean it when I say once.”

Richie opened his mouth to retaliate, though better of it, and walked back into the dinning hall.

The doors swung shut, and Beverly winced. He stomach felt like some wild animal had taken over, and was at this current moment jumping around in it.

She tried not to think of her Dads reaction if they called home.

“Right.” Mrs Henderson said, lowering her gaze to Beverly and Eddie. “I’m not going to drill on, however I do see it fit to punish you.”

“We got lost...?” Eddie attempted, but Mrs Henderson just gave a sour laugh.

“Once you finish your dinner, you’ll go outside and collect all the litter from the fields, left over from the swim tournament. It shan’t take you long, so consider yourselves lucky.”

Beverly sighed and nodded, grateful that her Dad wouldn’t be notified.

“Come on.” She said to Eddie and they both headed back into the hall.

“Oh, and one last thing.” Mrs Henderson called when Beverly was at the door. She turned to look at her form tutor. “Next time you take a uh, trip, there are back ways into each tower.”

With that, she tipped them a wink and walked off.

Beverly was speechless but Eddie just laughed. “Sounds just like matron.” He mused.

“What do you mean?” Beverly asked, and Eddie filled her in as they walked back to their table.

They both finished dinner quickly, not wanting to get into anymore trouble. Richie said he’d go with them, but both Bev and Eddie insisted that it would be better if he stayed. The rest of the table agreed to met them in the common room, and Bev and Eddie took off, walking to the swimming pool.

The sun was already starting to set, the September night cool. Beverly took in the whole moment, appreciating the colours in the sky and the falling leaves.

“Isn’t life beautiful sometimes?” She asked Eddie dreamily.

“And absolute crap the other times? Yep.”

Bev elbowed him, but thought. “Well, even if life isn’t always great, you can’t just, let all the badness take over.”

Eddie laughed sourly. “And if the badness is you?”

“Huh?”

Eddie opened his mouth, then shook is head. “Forget it.” He said.

“Is it about your mother?” Beverly asked gently, sensing that it was a touchy subject she was stepping in on.

“No. Yes. It’s- I don’t know.” Eddie said, voice breaking slightly. Bev looked at him under the dying light and noticed how lost he looked.

“You can tell me.” She said quietly.

They were almost at the pool now, but Bev thought she’d rather help Eddie than pick up a few lose crisp packets.

“It’s just.” He said sighing. “My Mum’s ruined everything. My inhaler, the gazebos, it’s all shit! And everywhere I go I can almost hear and- Fuck it!” He yelled suddenly, then stopped walking.

He grabbed Bev’s shoulders and turned her so she was facing him. “Bev,” Eddie said. “I’m gay.”

There was a beat of silence. Somewhere in the distance a bird chirped.

“Oh.” Beverly said, not really knowing what to say.

“I- Shit Bev, I’m sorry-“

“Why are you sorry?”

“It’s just, it’s not a good thing-“ Eddie started, continuing to walk. “Or that’s what my Mum says and I don’t know-“

“Eddie.” Beverly said gently. “It’s not a bad thing. You like boys, and that’s fine. I don’t mind, and I’m sure no one else would either.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Beverly said honestly. “I mean like, it’s love, isn’t it? And love isn’t one set form. You’ll never find love if you try to please other people while searching.”

“You think so?” Eddie asked, looking hopeful.

“Course.” Bev said cheerfully, elbowing him. “And so what if other people don’t like it? Their loss.”

Eddie smiles gently and Bev had never seen him look so genuinely happy. “Thanks Bev.” He said.

Bev smiled back, the glanced over to the pool. “Come on.” She said, indicating to the pool with her head. “Let’s get this over with.”

So the two friends went over to the pool, enjoying each other’s company, and finding reassurance in each other’s silence. And as Bev cleaned around the pool, she couldn’t help but think how perfect everything seemed to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sksksks hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! Me and Alice thought it was a good time for Eddie to come out to Bev soooo it happened! And yes, Richie Stan Eddie and Greta got blue glue spilled all over them (and yes all Greta talked about was her hair)


	6. Inside Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a lead up to a big thing that will happen next chapter so buckle up. Also, an important moment with Richie and Bill.

**Ben Hanscom, North and East common room**

“Ok guys has everybody got at least three dollars?” Chloe scanned the room, in return getting a chorus of yes’.

“Ok, if I remember correctly-“ Richie was cut off, as usual.

“I doubt that.” Greta smirked. Beverly’s rosy cheeked face turned towards Greta, presenting an almost thunderous expression to her.

“If! I remember correctly, they said they would come somewhat early.” Richie wrinkled his eyebrows slightly.

“Somewhat early. How helpful.” Buffy spoke up.

“Actually yeah, Buffy’s got a point.” Beverly agreed.

“Well maybe-“ Richie was cut off by a door bell from the floor below. This keeps happening to him, Ben laughed to himself.

“Shit.” Eddie stated at the loud doorbell that could easily wake any of the teachers up instantly, making them throw on their dressing gown, yawn their way down the stairs to the back door, open it then collect the parcel and land anybody who had made the call to the shop in detention- hold on Ben caught himself, that’s not a half bad idea.

“Guys what if we let the teacher open the door and get the parcel?” Ben said excitedly.

“That is a terrible idea-“

“Go on.” Beverly said gently, shushing Greta.

“So they will collect the parcel and wonder who ordered it, and if no one owned up, everyone would have detention, or some punishment like that, yes?”

“We are wasting time here!”

“Y-y-your p-puh-point?” Bill asked.

“That would mean south and west would have to own up and that would be our first prank!” Ben finished, out of breath.

“But then how will we get the stuff?” Mike chimed in.

Ben sat quietly.

“See? A terrible plan! Come on we have to run now or the teacher will definitely get it!” Greta yelled.

“Hold on, That’s actually a pretty good idea... how about we empty the parcel, then leave it at the door for the teacher to collect?” Richie said, bouncing up out of his seat ready to sprint down the stairs.

“Yes! That’s it! Right, let’s go, and fast! Who’s coming?” Ben said, also getting out of his seat.

“I’ll come,” Eddie, Mike, Bev and Chloe said in unison.

“Let’s go!”

And with that, the five went flying down the staircase, light as a feather, they hoped.

“Hello,” Richie opened the door, and passed the money they had scraped together somehow. “Thank you, now leave- I mean, goodbye fellow person.” He waved and slammed the door. “Anyone got a knife and some sellotape?”

“Oh yeah let me just pull the knife and sellotape out of my pocket, of which I usually have by the way, did you know?” Eddie said sarcastically.

“Wow Eds, you’re feisty-“

“Shut up.”

“Ok I think there is some sellotape in the common draw, a knife in the kitchen I’m sure.” Ben said thoughtfully and determined. Bev ran to the kitchen and Mike ran back up the stairs, shortly returning soon after with both items.

“What the hell kind of knife is this? It doesn’t bloody cut- Beverly this is a butter knife!” Richie whisper-yelled.

“You go get it then!” She cried back.

“Let me do it then!” Eddie not-so-whisper-yelled and took the knife off Richie, then stabbing it through the sellotape.

“Jesus Eds, didn’t think you had it in you.” Richie chuckled lightly.

“Don’t. Underestimate me and don’t. Call me Eds.” He ripped open the parcel, not breaking eye contact with Richie, and practically strutted away from him, making Ben slightly step back in alarm.

They took the foul tasting mustard and fake bugs of the parcel.

“Right pass me the sellotape-“ Richie was cut off with footsteps making their way, slowly, down the stairs.

“Shit!” Eddie whispered.

“Someone stall, quickly!” Richie hissed and started chucking the pranks to Mike.

Beverly ran up the stairs and started speaking innocently.

“Oh hello miss,” Beverly yawned. “Just getting a drink.” She moved ever so slightly in front of Mrs Henderson, Ben saw.

“Oh, good morning, now if you would excuse me-“

“Beautiful morning don’t you think?” She carried on.

“Yes, yes but-“

“And would you mind showing me where the girls bathrooms are? I get awfully confused and I don’t want to get lost at this time of day.” Bev laughed sweetly.

“Can you hang on a minute? It’s been two weeks, shouldn’t you know by now? I need to get the do-“

“I’m very desperate, very very desperate.”

Mrs Henderson waited a little, before replying, “alright, this way.”

“Bev looked down the stairs and winked at Ben, telepathically telling him the coast was clear.

“Guys,” Ben whispered to the three hiding under the stairs. “We have probably just under a minute.”

They came out and placed the package on the door mat.

Richie nodded at them all. “Let’s run.”

The four burst into the common room, “Quick! We need to get back to our dorms or we’ll get caught.” Mike ushered everybody out the door and up the stairs.

They ran into their dorms and threw themselves into their beds.

“Now we wait.” Eddie stated.

A couple of hours later, they walked into the dining hall and was greeted with Mrs Wilson looking like she was about to give a massive speech.

“Students! Listen for a moment please.” She spoke.

Ben looked over to Richie, who was also looking around the room.

“I’ve been told that a package has been delivered. Who ever owns up now, won’t get too bad a punishment. I’ll be in my office.” She finished gravely.

Ben saw a load of confused faces from south and west and eventually a couple got up and left to Mrs Wilson’s office.

Thomas looked up to east and north’s tables, a facial expression that sent shivers down Ben’s back.

“... shit.”

 

**Mike Hanlon, heading to Art class**

The trees’ leaves were a whole shade darker now. In fact, half of the leaves were shrivelling up on the floor. Being crushed by the feet of careless teens who didn’t know where their lives were going. Mike was one of those teens.

On the farm, Mike had sort of mapped out the rest of his life. Following the footsteps of his dad. He couldn’t say the same anymore.

Don’t get Mike wrong, he doesn’t hate his parents. Not one bit. He was mad at them initially, but isn’t that allowed? When you knew where your life was going, and then it being ripped apart with one letter? He missed the farm, a lot. And he could rarely say he didn’t think about it often. But even rarity has its off chances. And Mike has his off days of not thinking about it. And today was that day.

Today the sun shone a little brighter, today Mike’s smile was a little more genuine, he even noticed he had more of a spring in his step. And luck would have it, he and his friends didn’t even get lost on the way to art!

Mike pushed open the curved shaped door and held it open for the six that were behind him. Then took his seat next to Stan.

“Right class.” The teacher yawned. “I’m your cover teacher for today.” She picked up the piece of paper, like it was an effort, and started reading off it. “The sheet here says that you are learning some new sketching skills and will be presenting them while drawing an apple. Watch the light and shade of it and try to copy it as best you can. Don’t be afraid to add markings of colour anywhere.”

“Seems simple enough.” Richie stated, bored.

“So get your books out and just write this title and date and you can get going.” She sat down heavily and fiddled with her glasses. “Oh and my name’s Mrs Haywood if anyone cares...” her voice trailed off into silence.

“I love her already.” Bev laughed and yEETED up her pencil case onto the desk, Mike repeating this motion.

He opened his pencil case and got out his pen. “Oh cool I didn’t realise the school handed out free pens.”

“I have one too!” Ben said.

“Duh we all get one.” Richie replied.

“I don’t have one.” Eddie pouted.

“Aw Eds do you want mine?” Richie chuckled and held out his pen to Eddie, although his arm was being pushed away.

“I don’t want your pen.” Eddie rolled his eyes. He seemed to have a tendency of doing this, Mike had noticed.

Mike opened his book and clicked his pen, but to his surprise, it immediately clicked back in again. He tried again, getting the same result. He looked up and saw Ben with the same confused expression plastered on his face that Mike had. Richie was just sitting there constantly clicking the pen.

“What the fuck?” He mused. “Ben, architect right? What’s wrong with our pens?”

“G-g-guh-gu-guys? Look at s-s-s-s-south and w-wuh-west.” Bill pointed across the room to the two tables filled with the other half of the year. All of them snickering and whispering. Presumably about them.

“How didn’t we guess?” Stan whispered, almost accusingly.

“How were we meant to? They were clever putting pens in three peoples pencil cases. We couldn’t have known.” Mike replied in defence of their side.

“That’s 3-0 now.” Beverly spoke dully.

“That’s ok, we’ve got the pranks now, we can finally get rolling.” Richie smirked.

“Don’t ever say that again.” Eddie said coldly, but couldn’t help a smile appearing on his face.

The end of the lesson finally cartwheeled around.

“Miss Haywood,” Eric asked from across the class. “Seeing as its Blake’s birthday-“

“Yes you may sing him a happy birthday.” She replied, cutting him off. “Make it quick though.” She mumbled the last part.

The class broke into song. “I swear to god if that happens in me in a couple of months.” Mike sighed.

“Wait two months? Until your birthday?” Stan said excitedly.

Mike could’ve kicked himself.

“Um yeah-“

“HOLY SHIT MIKE! That’s so exciting!” He laughed. “I’ll tell the others.” He turned to the table but Mike stopped him.

“No, Stan, don’t. I don’t want people making a big deal of it.” Mike stared at his shoes, annoyed at himself for even letting it slip in the first place.

“But Mike, it your birthday!” He said, slightly confused.

“So what? Who wants to celebrate the day this irrelevant piece of shit was born.”

“Mike. So help me I will flip this table onto your head right now if you beat yourself up ever again.” Stan shook Mike by his shoulders.

He laughed. “Nothing’s stopping you.”  
He started walking out of the classroom. “Sorry, it’s just no one would care so what’s the point in wasting your breath?”

“What do you mean ‘no one would care’? Of course they would care! We are your friends Mike.” Stan stated, and without further notice, he turned to the others and announced Mike’s birthday. The others cheered and slapped Mike on the back. He smiled back.

See? Mike’s thoughts pocked at him. They do care, and so should you.

And with that, Mike caught up with his friends, not realising he’d fallen behind, and continued to walk with a spring in his step.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, Rushing to the common room**

“We don’t have to run so fast, yanno?” Ben panted, following Eddie as he practically ran up the stairs.

“I just want to get started.” Eddie said, dodging a top former. “I can’t bear to see them win this, especially after the glue incident.”

Ben caught up with him and pulled him back. “I get that, but there’s no need for me to faint while doing so.”

Eddie cracked a smile and slowed down, walking side by side with Ben.

“Sorry.” Eddie said, still navigating his way to the common room. “I just get carried away.”

Ben laughed kindly and Eddie relaxed slightly, not even realising he was tense.

He supposed he did that a lot. He knew he use to, especially in front of this mother, but he hoped he was doing it less. He thought he was, anyway. He felt more at home in the two weeks he’d been at Whitemore than he had for the thirteen years he’d lived at home. And he thought he knew what that meant.

But he didn’t need to think about that now. All he needed to focus on was getting the pranks ready. And that wouldn’t be too hard, right? If West and South did it, then there was no reason they couldn’t.

No reason at all.

Without realising it, they’d reached the first years comment room. Eddie slowed down and opened the door, walking in with Ben behind.

Emily was the only one there, sitting on the sofa, slightly puzzled expression on her face. A blanked was draped over her legs and she looked up from her notebook when Eddie and Ben walked in.

Ben was about to say something to Eddie when the door opened once more and Richie and Bill came in. Soon, the whole of North and East were in their common room, some crosses legged on the floor, others squashed onto sofas.

Bill cleared his throat. “Well, n-now we’re all here, s-s-should we start?”

There was a chorus of agreements and someone yelled “Hell yeah!”.

“W-w-who wants to t-t-talk?” Bill started, but Bev cut him off.

“You can.” She said simply.

Bill looked shocked for a second then nodded. Eddie thought that Bill didn’t like speaking. He was too caught up in wether he would stutter or not to actually focus on his thoughts. It was a shame, Eddie thought, because Bill seemed like he’d have a lot of confidence if not. And it must suck to not be able to say what you want to without worrying every two seconds.

“Uh.” Bill began, and Eddie tried to make his face as calm and reassuring as possible.

“W-w-we-well, we’ll s-start with t-t-the bu-bu-basic o-ones.” Bill said, and Chole shifted.

“We can put the mustard in their toothpaste.” She suggested. “That way it will be ready for tonight.”

Eddie was about to agree when he remembered Thomas’s face a breakfast. How mad he looked. No, not mad. Livid. And he didn’t even know what was fully going on. So how would he react to this?

“We have to be careful, right?” Eddie said loudly. “I mean, I want to live to my fourteenth birthday.”

“Murder’s illegal.” Emily pointed out matter of factly.

“Correct.” Greta said, slouched on the sofa. “But making our lives living hell isn’t.”

A few people agreed and one person even called “Here here!” out loud.

“Well,” Beverly said, leaning forward. “I think that’s what they’re aiming for. It’s war, isn’t it? And knowing West and South, they’re not going to go any easier on us because we may feel a bit down. Our best bet it to be two steps ahead of them.”

“Play them at their own game!” Richie said, quoting matron.

“Exactly!” Beverly said, snapping her fingers.

“S-so, are we a-all in a-a-agr-rement?” Bill asked, looking around.

There was a low mumble and Chloe stood up, dark skin reflecting in the light. “We’ll start now.” She said confidently. “A few people can put the mustard in and others keep watch.”

“We’ll have it done by tonight!” Blake called and Chloe nodded.

“Who’s coming with me?” She asked. A few people raised their hands, Eddie included.

“Okay.” Chloe said, nodding. “Bill, Bev, Mike, Eddie and Buffy come with me. Ben, Stan and Greta can be look out.”

Eddie walked over to where Chloe was standing, hoping they wouldn’t need all that lookout.

“Okay.” Chloe said when everyone was there. “Let’s go.”

They walked out the common room in a line, and Eddie could hear Bev’s soft breathing from behind him. His heart fluttered slightly when he remembered what he told her two weeks ago, but shook it out of his head. She’d only talked to him about it one other time, and that was to assure him that she wasn’t going to tell anyone. And in most ways, Eddie was happy he told Bev. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“We’ll have to go down the stairs and across the hall.” Beverly said, and Eddie remembered how they had entered the towers all those weeks ago.

“Then where?” Chloe asked, stopping in her tracks.

“Right then up the stairs.” Eddie said promptly, and Chloe shook her head.

“I’ll never understand this!” She said, then took a step back. “Eddie, just lead the way. Please.”

“You sure?” Eddie asked, feeling singled out. “Because it’s really not that hard-“

“Just fucking go already.” Greta said from the back, and Eddie wasn’t in the mood to yell back.

He navigated them to the other Towers, past classrooms and up stairs. By the time they actually got to South Tower, they had ten minutes left of lunch.

“Okay.” Chloe said, pressing her head against the door. “I can’t hear anything. I guess they’re all in the hall or something, but we can’t have them come back and catch us. So Gr-“

“Greta, Stan and Ben are watch out, we know.” Greta said, leaning against the wall.

“Just y-y-yell or some-something.” Bill said, and Ben gave a nod.

“Come on.” Chloe said, and Eddie followed her into the dorm, followed by Buffy, Bev, Bill and Mike.

Once again, Eddie was struck with how similar the dorm was to theirs. All the beds were positioned the same, and the door leading to the bathrooms was in the same place. The window was the only immediate difference, the view being the distance town and mountains.

“Let’s go.” Beverly hissed, not wanting to waste any time.

The six made their way into the large bathrooms, and Eddie scanned down the room.

“O-okay.” Bill said, reaching for a tube of toothpaste on the sink. “Let’s d-do t-t-this.”

Mike ended up doing it, having the most nimble fingers out of all of them. He managed to squirt a good amount of the toothpaste into the sink (at which Eddie at gagged at) and washed it away. Then, he tipped the mustard in, Bill helping.

“I hope that does it.” Mike said, wiping his hands on his trousers.

“Should do.” Buffy said, picking up the tube and weighing it in her hands. “Let’s go before they come back.”

They went out again, carful to close the door.

“You do it?” Stan asked, and Mike nodded.

“It wasn’t easy but we managed.” He said, and Stan smiled at him.

They all went to Biology now, not wanting to risk being late. Beverly stuffed the mustard at the very bottom of her bag, saying how she’d put it back later.

They all reached their class with a second to spear, the others waiting outside for them.

“Did you do it?” Eric asked anxiously.

“Yeah.” Eddie said, moving next to Richie. “Mike did it in the end, but it’s all set.”

“And you didn’t get caught?” Patty asked.

“No, we were fine.”

“More than we can say.” Richie laughed, referring to the parcel incident.

Eddie elbowed him, but grinned too. Things seemed to be looking up.

“And we can watch it, right?” Alison asked eagerly. “Wait outside?”

There was some low muttering and Chloe shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Eddie was going to say how they needed to be careful when the door opened and their teacher stepped out.

They all made a line and Eddie couldn’t help but think how well they were doing.

And how well they would win this thing.

 

**Bill Denbrough, Biology class next to Richie Tozier**

Bill hates his stutter. He also hates his parents. And occasionally himself. But right now he hated his stutter more than anything in the world.

He was going to tell Richie a joke, one that would surely crack him up, but he knew full we he’d stutter.

It was frustrating, not being able to talk. The one way he could actually express himself and it was damaged. Destroyed. Whatever. And it was not even like he could hide it. Because he couldn’t. It was always there, always present.

It was getting better. Or it would. But time was moving slowly and all Bill could hear was a echo of his voice, and all he could feel was his clammy hands.

“Dude, you okay?” Richie asked, nudging him.

Bill hadn’t even noticed he was drifting off, letting his Biology teacher ramble on.

“Y-y-yeah.” He said, trying not to hear himself like Richie did. “J-just t-t-tired.

“Man, why do you do that?” Richie asked, twiddling with a empty tube.

Bill’s face went red. “I c-c-can’t help m-my s-s-st-stutter.”

“No not that.” Richie almost laughed, dropping the tube. “I mean why do you always bottle up your feelings?”

Bill sighed in relief. “I d-don’t.” He said

Like Richie could talk anyway, he thought.

“Yeah you do.” Richie insisted, not bothering to keep his voice low. “Whenever someone asks how you feel, you always say your fine or some shit-“

“A-are you s-s-saying t-there is s-s-some-something wrong?” Bill asked in what he hoped was an accusing voice.

“You tell me.”

Bill bit his lip, trying to think. He could tell Richie, he guessed. About how he hated his stutter. And how it made everything so much harder. How it felt when people mocked it, when people whispered about because Hey world, I’m Bill Denbrough and I have the worst fucking stutter you will ever hear! Now go on, make fun of it while you can because if all works well it will be gone one day! That’s right, stuttering Bill with no stutter, no fucking stutter in sight!

But he still wondered if anyone would care. If Richie would. People didn’t normally care, maybe because they didn’t want to, maybe because they didn’t know how, but Richie wasn’t like that. He would care, wouldn’t he?

“It’s j-j-just m-my s-“ Bill started, but their Biology Teacher cut him off.

“Okay!” She clapped her hands, and Bill jumped. “Please pear off and grab a worksheet on DNA. You may work together but please keep it down!”

The class got up and started to move, and Richie smiled at Bill. “Guess we’re together.”

Richie went up to get two sheets and Bill tapped his finger impatiently on the desk. Waiting. Thinking. Wanting but not wanting. Or needing. He didn’t know.

“Ooookay.” Richie said, slamming the sheets down on the counter. He sat down very clumsily on his stall and turned to Bill.

“So.” He said. “What were you gonna tell me?”

Nothing

Everything

“It’s j-just m-my s-s-stu-stu-stu-s-s-SHIT!” Bill yelled frustrated. He blushed, not wanting Richie to laugh.

“Stutter?” Richie asked quietly.

“Y-yeah.”

Richie wrote his name on the sheet, giving Bill time. How was he meant to tell Richie shit when his stutter wouldn’t let him say a word? Maybe he wouldn’t bottle his feelings up if he could actually speak them.

Bill took a deep breath.

“It’s m-my s-s-s-stutter.” He said, not meeting Richie’s eyes. “I c-c-can’t say a-a-any-anything without s-s-stu-stu-stuttering and it’s t-t-the worst.”

Richie stayed silent for a while, then looked up. “You been stuttering for long?”

“I g-got hu-hu-hit by a c-c-c-car when I w-was th-th-three.” Bill said. “And m-my m-m-m-m-mum. My m-mum thinks t-that caused it.”

“Do you think it did?” Richie asked, looking solemn.

Bill thought for a bit. “N-no,” He said finally, looking at Richie.

They fell silent for a couple of minutes, answering some questions. All Bill could think of was Georgie. He hadn’t thought of him in weeks. Not at day, at least.

“You don’t always.” Richie said, breaking the quiet.

“D-d-don’t a-a-always w-what?”

“Stutter.” Richie said simply.

“O-oh.”

Richie looked at him a while longer, then bent down to write something.

He didn’t. He knew he didn’t . But after everything, he’d stuttered much much more.

“Are you-“

“I h-had a b-b-brother.”

Now it was Richie’s turn to look confused. “Had?” He asked, trying to keep quiet.

Bill nodded. “His n-name was- i-is Ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-Geor-Georgie.”

“What happened.” Richie asked, and Bill thought he looked so gentle that is was almost un-Richie like.

“He w-went m-m-missing. I g-gave him a b-b-b-boat, p-paper one, a-and h-he went o-out a-a-nd...h-he never c-c-came back.”

Richie looked stunned for a moment, and Bill could remember it perfectly. Them searching. Them crying. Him punching his wall until his fist bled. Everything. It was nothing.

“How long has he been missing?” Richie asked.

“A m-month. N-n-now a-anyway. That’s w-w-w-why I w-was s-sent h-h-here.”

Richie gasped for a second, suddenly looking outraged. “You mean they just shipped you off! Like it was nothing?!”

“I t-think t-t-they- W-well, I t-think t-they b-b-b-blame me.”

“That’s bullshit.” Richie said loudly.

“I-i-is it?” Bill asked quietly. Richie looked shocked but Bill had been thinking about it for a while. It was his fault. He gave Georgie that boat, he handed it right to him! And that boat was the reason Georgie was d-missing. Missing.

“How the fuck could you even think that!” Richie almost screamed. “Bill, you gave him a boat. A boat! You didn’t know it would kill him! And it didn’t, not really. It wasn’t the boat, it wasn’t you, it was just how everything played out! And you couldn’t of known!”

Bill sniffed.

“A boat, Bill. Not a loaded gun.”

Bill met Richie’s eyes for the second time. He was right, wasn’t he? Bill hadn’t given him some evil weapon, something meant to kill him. It was a piece of paper. Shaped into a boat.

“I g-g-gue-guess.” Bill said, not realising how close he was to crying until a tear fell down his cheek. “I d-didn’t i-i-intent to ku-kill h-him. But It d-d-did. I-I did.”

“No.” Richie said firmly. “No you didn’t. You didn’t give him a boat in the hopes that he would snuff it. You gave him a boat because you wanted him to have a little fun. If he went out without that boat, the same thing could of happened. Bill, you didn’t kill him. No one did.”

Bill nodded because, Richie was right. He didn’t kill Georgie. It was just how things went in the end. And even though Bill wished he could go back in time and stop Georgie from ever leaving the house, he can’t. But he also can’t blame himself for his brother’s death for the rest of life, even if his parents did.

Bill smiled, actually genuinely smiled, and elbowed Richie. “T-t-thanks man.” He said. Richie laughed, and they continued the worksheet.

Bill supposed it wouldn’t always be like this. One day his stutter would go and not come back. One day he wouldn’t blame himself for making that damm boat. One day.

But now was now, and now Bill Denbrough was in a class with someone he cared about.

And they cared back.

 

**Beverly Marsh, Waiting in the common room**

“One more minute.” Bev said, staring at the clock on the common room wall.

“One more minute and we’ll miss the whole prank!” Richie hissed.

“Shut up, Richie! She knows what she’s doing.” Eddie hissed back and the room returned to silence once again.

The teens in the room where practically buzzing with adrenaline. Their first prank had to go well. Or it would keep going down, hill by hill, eventually reaching rock bottom.

“But hey,” Beverly’s aunt had once shrugged. “Wanna hear something good about hitting rock bottom? There is only one way to go, and that’s up.”

And that’s the mindset Beverly has had ever since.

“And... let’s go go go!” She sprang up from her seat with a few others following. “If my calculations are correct, the bell for getting ready for bed should go in two minutes. Giving us three minutes to get to the bottom of the bathroom window-“

“Is what we’re doing really perverted? Or is it just me?” Chloe laughed.

“Probably, but it’s worth hearing the prank role out.” Beverly replied positively.

“If it roles out! By our luck, it probably won’t even work and we’ll be found out and punished and what if they get us back? No chance am I getting more of that goop in my glorious hair.” Greta rambled. Beverly stopped in her tracks, but before she could rip Greta’s hair out of her head, Ben came from behind her and gently calmed her down.

“She’s not worth it, oh and I thought you should know, we are behind schedule now.” He said calmly.

“Shit.” She cursed, and started picking up the pace to a run, praying they wouldn’t get lost.

They reached South’s bathroom window, standing under it, and waited for the teens to pile into the room. Beverly thanked the lords that the window was open.

“How long until the bell?” Richie asked, crouching next to her.

“Surely only like thirty seconds now?” Bev checked her watch again.

“It’s freezing out here! Are you sure the bell will go soon?” Eddie shivered.

“That, my friend, is because you are wearing booty shorts.” Richie laughed, getting elbowed by Eddie.

The bell finally rang, making Greta almost jump out of her skin.

“Oh! They are coming.” Beverly whispered to the group. She then mimed her finger over her mouth, indicating them to be quiet.

A few moments later a scream came from the room.

“What tHE FUCK IS THIS TOOTHEPASTE?!” They bellowed, and Beverly heard them smashing the tap on in the hope of bleaching their mouth from the taste.

“It worked!” Chloe mouthed to Bev, air-fiving her from under the window.

The room upwards to them turned into commotion of questioning.

“Are you all really that stupid? It’s North and East’s prank. May I add that we have a second prank though, we have nothing to worry about.” Bev heard someone say, making her stomach churn in annoyance. “In fact I bet the little shits are out there right now.”

Beverly gasped slightly and motioned the other five to run around the corner. But in the process Richie fell over.

“Richie!” Bev scream-whispered, and hauled Richie up by the hands and hauled him to the other side of the wall.

“I may not be able to see you, but I know you’re out there, and just so you know-“

“They aren’t worth it Paula, close the window or you’ll catch a cold.”

Beverly heard Eddie’s breath hitch slightly, she then placed her hand on his back in reassurance.

“Be ready for the next one.” Paula finished and slammed the window shut.

“Well if the cold didn’t send shivers down my back, then that certainly did.” Chloe said, about to walk back across the wall they were just at.

They stood there for a few short moments, all thinking the same thing, until Eddie started shivering so uncontrollably that his teeth started chattering.

“Let’s go before the second bell goes, or we’ll be caught by matron.” Bev crawled beyond the window, then standing up straight.

They ran back to their dorms, quickly pit-stopping at the common room to tell everybody the good-ish-news.

“I wish I’d come now.” Mike sulked.

“No you don’t, I froze half to death out there!” Eddie said, still shivering slightly.

“Come on Eds, lets get you to bed.” Richie joked, putting his arm around Eddie.

“Don’t touch me.” Eddie dodged his touch, smile not faltering.

“But what could ‘be ready’ mean?” Stan said, unsettled.

“Well I assume it just means be ready for another prank, and that’s why we need to be ready when it comes so we can get them straight back.” Beverly replied.

“But how, and with what?” Buffy asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I know we still have fake bugs. We could use them someho-“ Beverly was cut off by the second bell ringing, making Greta jump out of her skin yet again.

“Quick! Everybody run back to their dorms. Nights guys.” Beverly speed walked with the others to her own dorm, saying bye to the boys.

“You do know they are gonna do anything in their power to get us back, right?” Audra said, yawning slightly.

“I know, and that’s why we’ve got to be ready for it. That’s what we’ve been talking about a minute ago” Beverly replied, chuckling lightly.

“Oh sorry, I was falling asleep.” Audra pushed open the dormitory door.

They jumped into bed about two seconds before matron pushed open the door.

“Nights girls.” She smiled.

“Night matron.” The girls chorused.

“Well luck would have it!” Chloe whispered.

“See Greta? It’s not completely rare we have luck.” Beverly shuffled in her bed.

Silence.

“How convenient.” Beverly rolled her eyes.

“Well, night guys.” Buffy yawned dramatically.

Beverly was suddenly struck with a new, possibly crazy, idea.

“Guys?” She got no reply.

Bev took the notebook that was sitting on her desk and flicked on her side light. She rummaged around for a pen and started writing.

Well trying to write, she found out at nine thirty pm after a busy day is  very difficult. But as long as she could read it, it could work.

And with that, Beverly went to sleep with a prank won and in the bag, and another one brewing.

Maybe not all was well, but maybe not all was bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took us a while, but me and Alice needed to change some plot points. Some Richie and Bill to make you emo. And some Mike and Stan because pure. Anyway, next chapter may be a two part one because alotttttt happens.


	7. Witch Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas from yesterday if you celebrate it, and if you don’t I hope you had a wonderful day anyway  
> (Halloween special after Christmas because why not)

**Ben Hanscom, North and East Common room, Halloween day**

“Hey, can someone turn the radio up?” Blake asked, slouched on a sofa by their timetable. No one moved a inch, and Ben fought back a laugh.

It was the Morning of Halloween, and the students of North tower were spread out over the room, enjoying their lesson free day.

As the prank war stood, nothing more had gone on since the toothpaste incident. Everyone was on edge for the next attack, but their teachers sprung their start of year tests on them, so no one really had any time for anything other than studying.

However, their tests finished yesterday, the last one being Geography, and Ben couldn’t help but want a prank free day of relaxing.

But when the East girls burst through the door in panic, Ben was hit with how unlikely that was.

“What’s wrong with you?” Richie asked, sitting up on the sofa.

Audra, who was in the lead, marched over to the centre of the room, red hair a mess. “You will not believe it!” She started, and Ben could fully appreciate how her voice could hit some truly high notes.

Greta followed her in, looking exceptionally pissed. “Once day I swear, I’ll kill those West and South bitches!”

“Slow down.” Mike said, looking around at the girls, all walking into the common room. “What happened?”

Beverly stepped forward, looking the calmest out of all of them, but Ben also thought she had a scary glint of anger in her eyes. “We were all heading back from breakfast.” She said to the silent common room. “And we were walking away from the staircase when Audra sort of trips over something. The next thing we knew, water balloons were raining down everywhere.”

“You don’t look wet.” Eric said slightly confused.

“That’s because we’re not.” Beverly continued. “Luckily for us, Audra took a jump back and the balloons just missed us. However, we all tumbled back into lovely Mrs Foy.”

Bill make a choking noise from across the room.

“She said that we had to be more careful, or we’d be spending our lunchtimes with her.” Patty said, flopping down on the sofa. “How she missed the water on the floor I don’t know.”

“Now what?” Ben asked, feeling more than a little defeated. Every time they’d tried to beat South and West, they’d always come right back. It was like they were ten steps ahead, and always would be. Ben couldn’t see much point on the war anymore.

“I have a idea.” Bev said, still standing in the centre of the room.

She looked around to make sure she had everyone’s attention then went on. “I had a prank two weeks ago, when I was about to go to sleep. No one was awake so I just wrote it down in my notebook, but now seems like a good time to use it.”

Ben didn’t know what Beverly had planned, but he could bet it would be better than anything he could come up with. Bev had the creativity that was fast but seemed almost completely thought through.

“Okay.” Mike said, nodding. “Let’s look at that.”

“I’ll get it now.” Beverly said, still remaining calm. “Who wants to come with?”  
She asked.

Ben felt his hand raise into the air without him really meaning it to. He almost instantly regretted this action, feeling everyone’s eyes burning into him.

“Let’s go.” Beverly said, and Ben stood up and joined her at the door.

She opened it carefully, and then it was only them, out in the corridor that leased to East’s dorm.

They began to walk, and Ben had never really noticed the way her eyes lit up light, or the way her hair was so messy but perfect too.

He shook these thoughts away, appreciating Bev the same though.

The turned the corner and Ben felt the need to talk. “So, what’s your idea?”

Bev smiled at him and Ben didn’t know why but right now why did matter right now his brain was on a high way and it was speeding because Beverly Marsh’s smile was like an angel it’s self and Ben didn’t know-

“It’s simple really.” She said, opening the dorm door. “We lock them in their common room. I mean, if we did it now, they’d miss the assembly.”

“That’s a good idea.” Ben said honestly.

They both walked in, and it didn’t take a detective to figure out something was wrong.

“Shit!” Beverly cried, looking around the dorm. Cushions were chucked everywhere, and some personal items were on the floor, away from their original spot of bedside tables.

“Bev?” Ben asked, trying to collect his thoughts. “Did you see any West or South people while the balloons were uh- yanno?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Beverly said, looking at Ben.

“You think it could of been a distraction?” Ben asked, feeling his breath calm as he looked at her.

Beverly sighed. “Yep. Goddammit we’re so stupid! Why didn’t we figure that out?”

“You couldn’t of known.” Ben said, wanting to reach out and comfort her but feeling like he’d cross a line.

Suddenly, Beverly jumped up and bolted to her bedside table.

“It’s gone!” She wailed, opening the draws frantically. “My notebook! They’ve took it!”

Ben did go over to comfort her then, because he could imagine the distress she was in.

“Hey, we’ll get it back, okay.” Ben said, arm resting very gently on her shoulder.

She nodded, breath slowing down.

“Has it got anything else written in it?” Ben asked, and Beverly shook her head.

“My Aunt gave it to me before I came here.” She said, and relief flooded in Ben. “It was a gift, and I’ve only written the prank and my timetable.”

“Hey.” Ben said quietly. “At least you haven’t written something embarrassing, like-“ Ben fell silent.

“Like a list of all my favourite things?” Bev asked.

“No, more embarrassing.” Ben said. “Like a list of your favourite kids tv shows.”

“Hmm” Bev said, smiling. “There’s something much worse.”

“Extra Math revision?” Ben asked, and Bev let out a little laugh.

“No.” Bev said, tilting her head. “How about... your pep talk?”

Ben laughed. “That would be embarrassing.”

“Don’t tell Richie.” Bev said, linking arms with Ben. “He probably has one.”

They both walked back, Ben willing at himself not to blush at Beverly’s arm around his own.

They walked in, and it was like everyone jumped up, waiting for them.

Ben closed the door, meaning Bev had to take her arm away, and then thy went to the middle of the oddly crowded common room.

“So?” Audra said, looking expectingly at them.

“My notebook was gone.” Bev said, and there was an immediate outbreak. Ben could of swore he heard someone suggest pushing them off a cliff.

“Guys!” Mike yelled, getting everyone quiet. “Let’s hear them finish.”

Ben and Bev gave Mike an thankful look, then Beverly continued.

“It was West and South, obviously.” She said, and Ben hear a few utters of agreement. “And now they have the one prank idea we have. So, to put it nicely, we’re screwed.”

More outbreak came, when Ben was struck with a sudden idea.

“Guys!” He called, getting no response. “Guys! Guys?”

Eddie stood up and yelled “Silence! Thank you!” And everyone shut up.

“I have an idea.” Ben said carefully, trying not to get too carried away. “Well, if they do have Bev’s plan, then they’ll be in the common room, waiting for us, right?”

“Yeah.” Audra said. “So?”

“Well.” Ben continued. “What if we go to their common room and uh, really embrace Halloween.”

“You mean-“

“Scare them.” Ben finished. “Yeah.”

 

**Mike Hanlon, walking to South and Wests’ common room**

Ben said it would be easy, but Mike had doubts. South and West weren’t the type of people to easily get pranked so would they really be scared easily?

But Mike supposed it had to be worth a shot.

So that’s how he found himself being dragged along with Ben’s somewhat insane somehow genius plan. If you could call it a plan.

Ben had said they needed to create South and West’s common room into a place of terror. Then, they needed to (and Mike couldn’t help but laugh at the thought) jump out and scare them. They had a few supplies (fake cobwebs Patty had and Ben had suggested they use torches) but Mike still didn’t know if that was enough.

“That’s s-s-slightly l-lame.” Bill has pointed out, but Ben had just shook his head.

“You’ll see.”

And here they were. About it ‘see’. However that may be.

“Okay.” Ben said, standing in front of South and Wests common room with mild directions from Bev. “Me and four other people can go in and do... whatever. The rest can keep watch as best as possible.”

Mike winced at the uncertainty in Ben’s voice. How the fuck were they meant to do this?

“Why don’t we all mess the common room up, but only four people scare?” Mike suggested, wanting to make the most of Ben’s idea, even if he thought it kind of sucked.

The thing was, Mike liked Ben. But he thought Ben didn’t like himself. That being that, Mike didn’t want Ben to be embarrassed in front of the two towers, and if this plan failed and burned that could very well be the case. Hence Mike desperately trying to help.

“S-sure.” Ben stuttered, sounding a bit like Bill. “Let’s go then.”

All sixteen students wander into the empty common room, one thing on their minds; revenge.

Mike grabbed Stan’s hand. “Let’s work at the door.” He said to the slight bemused boy.

Stan nodded, and they made their way over to the entrance.

“What do you think of this?” Mike asked off the bat, trying to hang up Patty’s cobwebs.

“I think Ben knows more than he’s letting on.” Stan answered truthfully, mimicking Mike’s actions. “I mean, he seems to know what he’s talking about, and he’s smart as hell, far as we can tell. My only worry is that we’re under prepared.”

Mike hummed, showing he agreed. Stan was right, Ben was hardly the stupid kind, But did that mean he could pull this off?

“You know, I think it would work.” Stan mused, and Mike looked up at him.

“Really?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Stan said, adjusting the cobwebs. “I mean, if the atmosphere is creepy, maybe it will put them on edge enough. Then we’ll have the upper hand.”

Mike smiled at Stan, loving how he could put the logical side of things in perspective. It reassured Mike, and that was something he found he needed a lot.

“I don’t know Man.” Mike said, sighing dramatically. “Maybe I’m being too negative about this. It’s like, I can never fully appreciate something without hating it too.”

Stan stopped hanging the cobwebs up and walked around the door frame to Mike, putting his arm around him.

“Come on.” He said gently. “Let’s get those torches.”

Mike nodded, and they quickly left the room, notifying the room where they were going.

It wasn’t that long of a walk to the cleaning closet, but Mike appreciated it all the same.

He thought he understood what Stan was doing; giving Mike a break from the craziness of the common room. And it was nice too. Mike could actually hear himself think now, and it felt like he hadn’t taken a breath in a few years.

It reminded him of the farm, weirdly enough. How the animals would sometimes be so could you’d just want to run away and never turn back. He loved the farm, he really did, but the animal side could be a bit too much.

“What are you thinking of?” Stan asked kindly, pulling the closet open.

Mike shrugged, following Stan in. “Home. The farm. Here. I’m struggling to find the difference.”

Stan laughed, reaching in the far corner for the torches. “Things got pretty crazy on your farm huh?”

“Yep.” Mike said, putting his hand out so he could receive the touches. “Bit like our towers right now.”

Stan passed Mike three, holding the same amount himself. “The war will be over soon. Hopefully.”

“Yeah.” Mike said as Stan kicked the door shut. They made their way back in silence, not talking but finding solidarity in each other.

“Mike?” Stan said timidity, a couple minutes away from South and Wests common room.

“Yeah.” Mike said, wondering why Stan sounded so quiet.

“When you said you were struggling to find the difference, you meant your farm and the people, right.”

“Yeah.” Mike said, confused about how Stan could of got mixed up. “What else could I of meant?”

“Well.” Stan said, stopping outside the common room. “I thought maybe you were struggling to find the difference between home and Whitemore.”

Mike coughed in surprise. He looked up at Stan, but he just gave him a smile and opened the door, walking in.

Mike shook his head, because Whitemore was far from home. He parents weren’t here, he hadn’t got his bedroom and it wasn’t in Derry-. Whitemore wasn’t a home. No. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Not-

“You coming in any time this year Mike?” Richie called from inside, and Mike felt his cheeks heat up.

“Coming!” He called, and walked in.

His mouth dropped open when he stepped inside. The common room did look somewhat creepy.

Fake cobwebs were draped over the place, hanging from windows and door. The lights were off, the only light coming from the dim torches him and Stan had collected. The radio in the corner was making some sort of hissing noise, which he later found out was Eddie managing to slow the tempo down. Despite knowing the plan all along, even Mike felt slightly spooked here.

“Guys.” He said breathlessly, and he turned to see Ben twiddling with his thumbs in the corner.

“You think it’s good?” Ben asked, and Mike felt his heart warm and the it.

“Yes!” Mike said loudly, making Greta jump. “It’s amazing! Holy shit, how-“

“You learn a few things after going to the annual haunted house each year.” Ben said modestly, and Mike laughed.

“Yeah.” Eddie said, walking over. “I use to slide down my window and go, else my mum would of had a fit. But it was ace, with all the lights and jump-scares and-“

“We get the picture.” Greta said, and Eddie just flipped her off.

“Okay well.” Ben said, trying to get everyone’s attention again. “Four can stay and hide, and the rest just need to make it overly obvious to come here.”

Mike chose to stay, along with Stan, Ben, Eddie and surprisingly Greta.

They all hid behind chairs and tables, and Mike tried not to focus on the creepily slow music. Stan was right about one thing; the atmosphere did help a lot.

“I think I hear something!” Eddie said, and everyone stopped moving.

“I swear, if those bitches have even tried to set us up, I’ll kick their asses myself!”

Mike tensed, knowing that if they didn’t pull this off they’d be universally fucked.

“Calm down Harriet, they’re not smart enough.” A deep voice said, and Mike recognised it as James.

“You know what?” Stan said quietly. “I believe I forgot to polish my shoes so if I could just pop out to do that-“

“Stan.” Eddie said. “Shut up.”

The talking ceased, and Mike heard the handle shake.

Fuck.

The door opened, and Mike could see several feet from his position behind their armchair.

“What the fuck!” Someone yelled, and Mike could hear the uncertainty in their voice.

“It’s just East and North.” A girl said. “They’re just... um, Thomas?”

“Ann, don’t be so scared.” Thomas said, threatening as ever. “Who else could it be?”

Mike held his breath, and started to whispered.

“Help me.”

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!” Thomas yelled, voice breaking.

“Come on.” Harriet said quietly. “Let’s go-“

But at that moment, Greta jumped up from her spot by the fire place, shrieking wildly. Mike almost had a heart attack himself, and not over her (quiet frankly) terrifying screaming. Her hair was a mess, flipped over so you couldn’t see her face. Outlined by the dying fire and low lit torches, she could of been pulled straight from a horror movie.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” One of them yelled, and they scrambled for the door, rushing out. They were still screaming as they ran down the corridor, letting the door swing behind them.

“Greta?” Ben asked quietly one they’d left, standing up.

Greta stoped screaming, tilting her head and brushing her hair out of her face.

“Greta, I-“ Eddie started, but apparently didn’t have the words to express his shock at her risking her hair, because he just shook his head and sat down.

“That was amazing!” Someone cried, and Mike turned around to see the rest of North and East, running through the doors, Beverly in lead.

“They look like they’d actually just seen a ghost!” She cried, skidding to a stop. “What did you do-“ She stopping talking when she caught sight of Greta, still brushing through her hair with her fingers. She moved up and shook her head, letting her hair fall into place.

“It was Greta.” Mike said, still not processing the last few minutes. “She screamed and they ran and-“

“You messed your hair.” Beverly said, and maybe if Mike wasn’t so fucking shocked he would if laughed. “Holy crap, Greta messed up her hair!”

Greta shrugged, making her way over from the fireplace.

“Play them at their own game, right?” She said, and smiled.

Mike did laugh then, because Greta was right. They’d played them at their own game and it worked. They’d been scared.

Play them at their own game.

 

**Stan Uris, own Towers common room**

Despite what he’d previously said, Stan was pretty surprised at how well Ben’s plan had gone. It could a better reaction than any of them could of ever expected, and Stan was still half expecting to wake up and see the actual Greta. But they’d done well, every one of them, and if Thomas’s face wasn’t a reward enough Stan didn’t know what was.

The bell rang out then, and Stan snapped out of his thoughts.

“Come on.” He found himself saying lazily. “Let’s get something to eat.”

The two towers walked down to the hall, chatting happily of whatever came to mind. Halloween had never been Stan’s favourite holiday by a long shot, as he never found it scary, but today had certainly been interesting. And they weren’t even half way through the Halloween yet, still hours to go.

They bundled down to the hall, and Stan pushed the door open.

“There you are.” Matron welcomed them sharply. “Mrs Henderson had a meeting with some other tutors, so I’m watching over you for lunch.”

There was a faint mumble and everyone got in the line to get food. Stan looked around and caught sight of West and South, already sitting down.

He noted that they were whispering close together, scared looks on their faces.

“Pie, Love?” The lunch lady asked, and Stan moved his attention back to the food, getting what he wanted before sitting down at the table (two had been pushed together again).

Once they’d all gotten their food and were sitting down, Bill and Mike took instant lead.

“W-w-what now?” Bill asked quietly. “Do w-we leave it a-at t-t-that?”

“We could go at ‘em again, but I think think we should put them on edge first.” Mike said, and Bill gave him a nod.

Stan was about to put in his input when Matron walked by their tables, stopping by the head. “What are you all whispering about?” She asked, and Stan suddenly became very interested in his fork.

“We-“ Mike started, but someone from West and South’s table yelled “Probably thinking of the best way to scare us next!”

“Mirrors?” Eddie asked seriously.

“What’s all this then?” Matron asked, addressing the four towers collectively, something Stan realised hadn’t happened much.

“They tried to scare us earlier.” A girl called Harriet called over. “Hid in our common room and all!”

Stan was about to question the tried, when (luckily) Bev spoke up.

“What do you mean?” She asked, and her face looked totally confused.

“Quit the act, you were in our common room!” Someone else called.

“Sorry?” Richie asked. “We’ve been in our dorms the whole day.”

“Yeah, resting after those tests.” Ben put in.

Someone sneered form the other tables, but Matron shook her head, “Must of been the Whitemore ghost.” She said gravely, unreadable expression on her face.

“The whatnow?” Stan asked, looking up at her.

“Ay.” She said, speaking clearly for all the towers to hear. “Once long, long, long ago there was a difference headmaster here. She was head of Whitemore and ruled with pride for many years, always eager to watch the students learn.”

“Is this real?” Stan whispered to Mike, and he shrugged, focusing purely on Matron.

“But one night a terrible fire broke out, and burnt down the school. The young woman was trapped in her tower, and some say you can still hear her screams as she burnt...”

The first years were completely silent. Matron let out a loud bark, and Stan jumped.

“Don’t go getting nightmares now.” She said ruffly, and walked off.

“That was you!” James called from the table, and Stan looked up at him. “You knew that story and tried to scare us!”

Beverly’s mouth fell open slightly. “We thought that was you...”

West and South froze, and all huddled to talk, leaving North and East alone.

Stan let out a sigh of relief.

“Good thinking Bev.” Ben said, and Stan could of sworn he was blushing.

“Thanks.” She said, grinning slightly.

“We’ll scare them again after lunch.” Mike said, taking his bite of pie.

The others agreed, and Stan began to eat again, thinking over what’d just happened.

  
They’d fallen for it, by the looks of it, and Stan thought maybe this could be the line between winning and losing.

He kept on thinking over their earlier prank, smiling to himself each time. And even though Stan knew the whole scaring thing was fake, that the screaming ghost girl was Greta, he couldn’t help but think how weirdly creepy it was that Matron’a story matched.

Maybe there was something scary about Halloween after all.

 

**Richie Tozier, with North and East**

“Well, now what?” Richie said, twirling a pen he found on the floor.

“Round two.” Beverly raised her eyebrows.

“But how? We’ve already scared them shitless.” Ben spoke up, moving the chair back into place.

“I think they could use a little more tormenting.” She smiled.

“Bev how?” Eddie asked.

“I-I don’t know.” She looked down slightly.

“We could-“

“Wow for once Beverly doesn’t have an idea.” Greta clapped.

“Greta, leT ME SPEAK OR I’LL RIP THE HAIR OFF YOUR HEAD!” Richie shouted, silencing her. “Right, since it’s Halloween, there are bound to be some sort of scary costumes we can wear somewhere.”

“Scary costumes? Yeah for two year olds.” Greta scoffed.

“Luckily that’s what we are up against.” Mike mumbled, getting a few laughing responses.

“Where would there be costumes though?” Eddie questioned, leaving Richie racking his brain for some sort of answer.

“We could make some masks?” Ben suggested, opening a cupboard door to look for some material.

“Oh wow because they are gonna be so scared of some crappy masks, unartistic teenagers made.” Alison said sarcastically. Ben out his hands up in defence.

“If only we knew how to act? We would be a million times better at scaring them if we could act.” Bev said blissfully.

“That’s it! Bev you genius! They’ll have costumes in the drama hall! Why the bloody hell didn’t we think of it before?” Richie jumped up out of his seat. “The only thing now is how are we going to get them, we can’t go in there unless we a performing.”

“Well spying is what we’re best at.” Bev said, high giving Richie and Eddie. “You said it yourself Tozier.”

“Ok so you three go and get a bunch of costumes from the dress up box thingy.” Ben remarked. “And we’ll plan what’s gonna happen, ok?”

“Yep, ok guys lets go.” Beverly got up and dragged Eddie up with her.

“Why do I get dragged into everything.” Eddie grumbled.

“Bye guys, see you in a bit.” Richie called, and with that, they left the room and started running down the path. “The hall should be this way.” He panted, steering them to the left.

“How do you remember? When we were told it went in one ear and out the other.” Bev laughed.

They ran into the side door, up the stars, and hauled to a stop outside the door.

“Is anyone in there, Eds?” Richie whispered. Eddie peeked through the door window.

“Yes. But it looks like they are now finishing.” He whispered back, losing his balance and fell into Bev. They both broke out into giggles.

“Shh guys!” Richie hissed, also chuckling lightly though.

Suddenly the door handle started to turn, and the three practically threw themselves round the wall, hearts hammering in their chests, well Richie’s chest anyway, he couldn’t speak for the others.

Eddie sneaked a look around the corner.

“What’s happening Eddie?” Bev panted.

“They are just standing there, talkin- ohhhh shit.”

“What?” Richie and Bev whispered in unison, staring at Eddie who was now scrambling to his feet.

“They are coming this way, quick we need to run.” He dragged Bev and Richie up and into an empty classroom. They crouched down under the door, waiting for the voices to pass by.

“Should we use this classroom?” The voice said, and Richie could feel a slight push of the door. He shot urgent, helpless looks at Bev and Eddie.

“No we can use Mr Cannon’s room, it’s bigger.” Another voice replied. And Richie let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

They waited for the voices to pass and clicked open the door, rushing back to the drama hall.

“Boy was that a close call.” Bev sighed in relief.

“I thought my heart was gonna fail on me.” Eddie agreed.

Bev slowly opened the door to the hall and crept in, followed by Eddie, then Richie.

“Look around for some box that could be used for clothes.” Bev prompted.

“Oh! I found some fake blood shit.” Eddie laughed, and stuffed it in his pocket.

After about five minutes of searching, Richie finally spoke up. “I found something!” The other two walked to join him and Eddie opened the lid.

“There is a ton of costumes in here!” He said, excitedly.

“How are we gonna carry them all back?” Richie asked, tossing a skeleton costume. “Should we just carry the whole box down?”

“What if someone sees, and besides, it will slow us down.” Eddie replied.

“Not if we’re careful, I’m sure if we cover up the box it will look like we are just lugging belongings somewhere.” Bev sided with Richie.

“But what if someone notices it’s gone? Then what?” Eddie carried on doubtfully.

“They won’t, we can bring the box back after we’ve finished. Does that settle you Eds?” Richie chuckled.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I guess.”

They casually made there way back to the common room.

“Jeez guys you took long enough!” Ben said, holding the door open for Richie who was carrying the box. “So you found the clothes?”

“And some fake blood.” Eddie pulled it out of his pocket.

“Well come on let’s get ready guys!” Stan said. “I’ll do the fake blood if you want?”

“Sure, right here we go!”

They crept to South and West’s common room and started to turn the room into some on-a-budget horror room. They got changed and got ready to hide. Richie got up and walked to the light switch.

“Everyone in their places?” He called from the front of the room, in return, everybody replied with a yes.

“Right-“ Richie was cut off by the sound of several footsteps coming down the stairs. “There coming.” He murmured quietly, switching off the light and running to his hiding place. “Can everybody hear me?”

Once again refined with whispers of agreement.

“On three, we’ll jump out ok?” Richie said. “Give them the fright of their life.” He smiled.

“3.”

“2.” He heard Eddie take an intake of breath.

“1.”

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, West and Souths’ common room (again)**

“Wait!” Eddie just stopped Richie in time.

“Eds not the time!”

“Let them get scared for a second or two.” Eddie hissed, ignoring Richie’s baffled look.

“But-“

“Trust me.” Eddie cut Richie’s response. Richie nodded and let Eddie take the lead.

“Ready guys?” Everybody nodded.

“Ok so I think I know a way on getting north and east back!” A voice said, clunking the door open.

“They won’t get away with it agai- ok what the fuck now?” The teens took in the room of which was now decorated a lot more intricately. “They really think they can scare us again with the same prank? How original. Come on let’s leave because it’s obvious what they are gonna do.”

“Shit.” Eddie breathed to himself. He now had to re route a plan, and fast. “New plan guys follow my lead.” Eddie whispered again.

“You have got to stop doing that Eddie, you’ll give us all heart failure if you carry on like this.” Beverly crawled over to Eddie, laughing quietly.

Eddie rose to a crouch, then to a squat, then shortly after to just bent knees.

“Eddie careful!” Ben whispered, almost too loudly.

He walked to the teens who were walking out of the room, and lightly tapped James, who was at the back of the line. Then, at lightening speed, he sped behind a close by chair.

James turned around slightly startled, of what Eddie could see, then turned back around, with a frown set on his face.

This time, Bev got up and repeated the same motion Eddie had just done, then dove behind a sofa, making a few of the hiding teens giggle.

“Ok little shits stop doing that, I know it’s you.” James rolled his eyes. Then, of which Eddie had no idea was going to happen, the lights started flickering. Eddie looked over and saw Stan at the back of the room, fiddling with the switch.

He smiled at Eddie, and gave him a thumbs up. He then heard scratching flaming from the ground, then knocking, and after a few seconds of that, everybody jumped up and screamed at James.

He let out a loud screech that Eddie wasn’t sure even Greta reached when her hairbrush broke.

Everybody started laughing, and the rest of south and west returned with shocked looks on their faces.

“What the hell happened here?” Thomas asked, looking around the room full of dressed up kids.

“We may have just given him the fright of his life.” Audra said, still holding her sides from the laughter.

“Yeah and not only that, we did it in style.” Richie walked over to Eddie. “Thanks to Eds here.”

James stormed out of the room. “Aw boo hoo, we got you and you have to admit it.” Beverly called, taking off the witches dress she found.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, what are you gonna do now huh? Celebrate with a little baby sleepover?” Thomas taunted and followed to catch up with James. Soon after everybody left the room, leaving north and east to clean up.

“This w-wuh-wasn’t part of the p-p-pruh-prank.” Bill grumbled, scraping off the fake blood from the window.

“Not only did we prank them, we pranked ourselves.” Greta groaned, straightening out her hair.

They finally got it cleaned up and headed back to their common room.

“I swear I could hibernate for at least a week now, all this scaring has made me exhausted.” Audra said, throwing herself onto the sofa by the fire.

“I could do that anyway.” Said Greta, half yawning.

“Oh? Sleeping for a week could make your hair awfully tangly, Greta.” Beverly teased, making Greta gasp.

“Correction, I could never do that.” She sighed dramatically, causing the room to chuckle.

“I’m just gonna go to the toilet, i’ll be back in a minute.” Mike stood up and walked out. As soon as the door shut, Stan ran up to the door, then turned to face everyone.

“Guys!” He said excitedly.

“What?”

“Everything ok?”

“You good bro?”

Questions went flying around the room in concern.

“So you know it’s Mike’s birthday soon, ish, right?” Stan said, almost buzzing now. “Well I’ve got the best idea of what to do for his party!”

This made pretty much everybody sit forward in there seats, including Eddie who was sat on the floor.

“Go on then, tell us!” Bev mused.

“Well, you know how Thomas said how were we gonna celebrate,”

“Yeah, he said Said are we gonna have a sleepover about it....” Ben finished him off. The sudden wave of realisation just about hit everybody at the same time.

“Stan you frickin genius!” Eddie squealed and clapped.

“How are we gonna do- hey Mike!” Richie said loudly, making Stan turn to the closest cupboard to act getting out some paper.

“Oh, hey?” He said, looking a tad confused, taking his seat again. “What did I miss?”

“Oh nothing, really, just talking about the look on James’ face.” Ben laughed lightly.

“I would pay to see that again, honestly.” Eddie smiled. “And I don’t even have money to spare!”

The whole room turned into an awkward silence.

Well fucking done Eddie, you said one thing and you brought the forms to silence! You should have a fucking round of applause for that. Eddie cursed himself.

“Same though.” Richie said, trying to lighten the mood. If he was trying to make Eddie feel a little less isolated, then it worked. And even if he wasn’t meaning to, then he had a gift.

The bell finally rang for lights out and the forms dragged themselves off the sofas and up the stairs. Once they had all said night and were laying in bed, Eddie felt like he could breathe for the first time that afternoon. He felt like he could finally actually take in what had happened and what he, out of all the people, he had helped do.

Out of all the years of his mother doubting him so much that he had never learnt what it felt like to believe in himself, he finally could feel it. And he liked the feeling all too much.

“Eds?” Richie whispered, trying not to wake anybody else up.

“What?”

“I just wanted to say, I wouldn’t have been able to have think of it myself in a million years. You did well.” He said slowly, as if he was treading on thin grounds, trying not to fall in the fire of which was symbolising the wrong things to say.

“Thanks.” Was all Eddie could say, he wasn’t used to getting anything good about him said to him.

“Well, night Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds.” Eddie said sleepily.

“You know you love it.” Richie mumbled. Eddie was silently shocked at what Richie just said, but chose to ignore it.

“Night Richie.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longggg chapter and we didn’t even realise.  
> As always we hope you enjoyed! Apart from a bunch of sCary stuff, we had to include Ben and Beverly because they’re too soft. And Mike + Stan and Richie + Eddie because we love them so much.  
> We’re always open to any feedback and we hope you have a great day!


	8. Somewhere Only We Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ao3 is glitching a lot so apologies if there’s any mistakes with the layouts etc  
> butttt there some Reddie in Eddie’s part of the chapter and a lot of inner monologue from the four, and we both hope you enjoy!  
> (this chapter is a break from the drama)

**Bill Denbroug** h, **first years dorm**

Bill woke up with a jump from the urgent night dreams. They were all packed with odd variations of Greta’s witch like hair and outfit, screaming the room down. And with every step he took trying to get away from her, he would bump into another Greta, even more terrifying than the last.

It finally all ended when Greta finally took a swipe at Bill and it ended. He assumed that’s because he died. Since no one knows what happens after death, dreams can’t know either.

Bill didn’t think he would want to know what happened after death. Knowing what was awaiting for you after you take your finally breath. Knowing what would happen if you made one mistake and got yourself killed.

Bill guessed he liked that sort of mystery though, because if he knew, what would be the point of living when you know what’s awaiting you?

He shifted in his bed to look at the watch on his bed side table. Groaning at the time, he started dragging himself out of bed.

“Sleep talking again Bill?” He heard Ben whisper. “You’ve been at it pretty much all night.”

“Oh, s-s-so-sorry about th-thuh-that.” Bill replied, making his way to the bathroom. “You d-do realise it’s n-near-nearly s-s-seven right?”

“Ugh shit.” Ben turned over in his bed. Bill smiled softly and locked himself in the bathroom.

Shortly after he came back out and saw a few of his form mates getting ready. Bill rubbed his head in attempt to vanish the dream still replaying in his mind.

“You ok, Bill?” Mike asked, making his bed.

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine, thanks.” Bill snapped back to reality.

The eight met with East and headed to the food hall.

“What are they planning now?” Bev nodded towards south and west’s table.

“Literally anything at this point.” Eddie laughed.

They took their seats at the joint table and were suddenly greeted with James.

“What do you want James?” Richie rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his water.

“Uh,” James looked uncertain, for once. He turned to his table and Bill saw them all nod at him, as if giving support. “We want a truce.”

Richie spat out his water, Eddie dropped his cutlery, Audra started choking on, what seems to be, air.

“What?” Everybody shrieked in unison.

“Did I hear that right?”

“You want a what?”

“Am I high? This bitch.”

“You heard me, a truce.” James spoke again, with more confidence this time.

“But, why?” Bev said, matching Bill’s height of confusion.

“We thought about it for a while, and thought you might not be able to handle another prank-“

“We can’t handle a prank? You should’ve seen your face last week.” Greta scoffed.

James turned a tad crimson, and carried on speaking. “So we decided to call it a day, for now.” He almost bowed and then left, back to his snobby table.

There was silence for a while before Bill decided to speak up.

“W-wh-What the fuck j-juh-just happened?” Was all he could think to say.

“I have no clue. Whatsoever.” Bev finished, speaking for everyone by the looks of things. Whatever just happened definitely had somewhat cleared Bill’s mind a bit.

“In a way, it’s sort of a good thing.” Mike said, seeing light of the situation.

“How?” Richie asked, still staring down the other towers’ table.

“Because it’s not like we had another prank planned, did we? I say it’s a miracle in disguise.” Mike replied.

“Bit of a stretch calling it a miracle, but you’re right.” Eddie chuckled.

“Children! Attention please.” Mrs Wilkins appeared in the hall, out of no where.

“When did she get here?” Ben whispered to Bill.

“I have n-n-no cl-clue.” Was his reply. A sudden though of her being able to teleport popped into Bill’s head. It wasn’t even funny but Bill found he had to haul back a laugh.

“You are allowed to go to town today!” Mrs Wilkins got a few cheers in response. “But there are a few ground rules that you need to know.”

“Here we go.” Richie muttered.

“You have to walk down in pairs, in your forms, so there is room around you for the public pedestrians. You may go to any shop but you must stay in the centre of the city. Don’t buy anything illegal or anything unsuitable for your age, and most importantly, have fun and make the most of it because you only get to go out every other weekend.

“First forms meet here at nine o’clock, clear?” She finished. Everybody nodded and with that she left the room.

“Mike was right about that miracle in disguise. If we were still at it, they would probably shop life and blame it on us!” Chloe mused.

“Well we should go get ready, or we will be late.” Greta stroked her hair.

“No Greta, you will be late if you don’t get ready now. It’s only like quarter to eight!” Beverly laughed.

“You can’t talk Beverly, you barely have hair to look after, not to mention you clearly don’t care about your appearance.” She teased. Bill saw Ben shift in his seat slightly. Beverly flipped her off and just laughed, although the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as it usually did.

“Greta just leave.” Eddie warned. “Just let her cool off a bit.” He then murmured to Bev.

“Oh I’m not worried. That bitch can say whatever she like about me if she wants, she’s not gonna gain anything from it.” She shrugged.

With that Greta stormed out of the hall, but being called back in shortly after by Mrs Henderson because she didn’t clear up her tray.

About fifteen minutes later they all decided to go back and get ready.

“If Greta says anything about you i’ll-“

“Ben, I’m fine, I can handle her. But thanks.” She reassured, then headed up the flight of stairs.

“How d-d-do you d-do th-thuh-th-that?” Bill asked Ben.

“Do what?”

“Feel c-co-confident enough to l-luh-look out for s-s-s-someone, but oh-openly.” Bill replied, silently cursing himself for asking.

“Oh, well, I guess if you care enough for someone, it comes naturally?” He ended his sentence with uncertainty.

“So your t-tuh-telling me I d-d-doh-don’t care for p-p-puh-people?” Bill joked.

“I never said that.” Ben laughed. “It’s just what happens for me, it could be different for you I guess. You just have to find out what it is.”

They got to their dorms and started getting ready, and all Bill could think about was the conversation he and Ben had just had.

Could be really not care about people enough? Is that the reason he’s never really open about anything? Is that why he could never talk to his parents about anything? Is that why everything went wrong?

Is that why Georgie’s dead?

Questions like these were now flooding into his mind, blocking out everything else. Stopping from thinking straight, everything was rushing past him but he was standing block still. His head was spinning- or was the room spinning? Bill couldn’t even tell the difference any more. He just wanted, needed, everything to-

“Stop!” He yelled without meaning to, turning the heads of the other boys.

“Bill? Hey, it’s ok, wanna stand outside for a bit? Don’t worry, we have plenty of time before we leave.” Mike stepped in, holding the door open for him to walk out. All Bill could do was nod and follow after Mike.

They were finally standing outside, and Bill felt he could finally breathe.

“What happened back there?” Mike asked after a few minutes.

“E-eh-everything sort o-o-of just g-go-got to me a-a-a bit.” He sighed.

“Well that’s ok, it happens to all of us from time to time, but feel free to tell me what’s up because it’s better to tell someone. But you don’t have too.” Mike smiled, realising he was rambling a bit.

“I don’t r-ruh-really wanna talk a-a-about it right now, b-buh-b-but thanks Mike, r-really, I d-doh-d-don’t know what I w-would’ve done if I st-stay-st-s-stayed in that room a-a-another her minute.” Bill let out a chuckle, taking a few more deep breathes of fresh air. “Sh-sh-should we g-go-go ba-back now?”

“If your ready.” Mike said and Bill nodded, and they headed back inside. Mike went into the room first. “Just give him some space and don’t bombard him with questions, ok?”

He followed Mike in. He looked over to Ben who looked defeated.

“I’m sorry.” He mouthed.

“It’s not your fault.” Bill mouthed back.

“Right.” Richie spoke out the silence, “Everyone ready?”

Everybody nodded, yet again.

“Then let’s go!”

 

 

**Stan Uris, Whitemore Hall**

 They marched into the hall, dead on nine o’clock, and waited for Mrs Wilkins to tumble in.

Everybody seemed brighter today, except Bill, but even he had grown happier since the incident this morning. The buzz of excitement was flowing around room, filling each and every one of them with the same emotion. Even Stan felt a little less stressed that morning.

Three minutes later, Mrs Wilkins finally showed up. “Good morning everyone. Is everybody ready for town?” She beamed.

Everybody smiled and nodded in return, her smile seemed contagious.

“Good, Good, everybody remember the rules I spoke about earlier? Or do I need to go through them again?” She asked, looking around the room at the getting-more-and-more-bored teens. They all nodded once again, a few losing their smiles this time, and what seemed like their will to live as well.

“Great. Everyone got money?” She questioned for a last time, and Stan saw Richie shift in annoyance. Everybody nodded for a final time, Eric even started yawning.

“Ok!” She clapped, waking everybody up (in Greta’s case, making her jump out of her skin). “Then let’s head off to the gate.” She walked off out of the hall, this time the kids following her.

“She sure took her time.” Richie whispered to Stan, making him chuckle slightly.

“Yeah any time this century, Miss.” he replied.

He looked over to Richie who was now chatting to Eddie, laughing at something he had just said. How does he do it so easily though? Stan wondered. The most he could do was carry on a conversation for another two sentences and have nothing else to say.

He guessed that’s why he never had any friends at his old school, they would just walk off to find someone more interesting and less annoying than him. Stan would always end up eating lunch with the teachers because he would rather eat anywhere else than the toilets. Then he’d end up being bullied because of that, and suddenly it’s just a vicious circle that he thought he could never get out of.

But he did, not necessarily for the right reason, but he did. He was offered a new chance in life.

“Penny for your thoughts, Stan?” Mike asked, moving so he could walk next to him.

“You wouldn’t wanna waste your money.” Stan replied, straightening out his shirt.

“I wouldn’t be wasting it.” Mike said quietly, almost as if to himself, but Stan heard. “But seriously, you can tell me if something’s up, you know that right?”

Stan nodded, thinking whether his conversation was really relevant to anything. Whether he was being a wimp and getting all depressed over his little life. Who was he kidding? Yes, Mike said he cared, but was he just saying that? Because, realistically, did anyone actually care about Stan? He wasn’t so sure. He knew for a fact his parents didn’t, so why should anyone else?

“You don’t need to lie.” Stan said, almost angrily. “I know your just trying to make me feel better, and lying straight to my face isn’t.” He hadn’t known what had gotten into him, but sudden anger and sadness had took over his happiness. His walked slowed down and he trailed to the back, not wanting to speak to anyone.

Afraid that he’ll hurt them too.

“Now, remember what I said, and be back at five ok?” Mrs Wilkins reminded, and with that, she opened the gate. And as if she was opening the cage of a pack of skittish birds, everybody sped off into town.

“Listen, Stan.” Mike walked back to Stan. “You might think I don’t care, but you thought wrong. You’re my friend Stan, and I’m not gonna let you be sad 24/7, not on my watch.”

Stan didn’t really know what to say, whether to believe or carry on being a stupid little brat who might’ve just broken he and Mike’s friendship.

“And I get that everybody has times where things aren’t going right and it’s ok to be sad, but I want you to know that you can talk to me, about anything! As long as you don’t feel alone, then I’m happy.” Mike finished, almost out of breath.

Stan was silent for a while. “I’m sorry.” He practically whispered. “Thank you.”

“Reddie is real.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, now come on, let’s just have some fun!” Mike raced down the track, making his way to the centre of the town.

“Hey come back.” Stan laughed and chased after him. They finally caught up with the other five and stood there, out fo breath.

“I’m so unfit.” Mike laughed.

“Me too.” Stan agreed, taking a seat in the cafe the rest had found.

“What do you guys want?” Bev asked from the line. Stan stared at the menu for a while before asking for a double chocolaty chip brownie.

“Very unfit.” Stan confirmed.

“You made it then.” Richie chuckled, taking a seat next to Stan.

“Made it where?” He replied, still panting slightly.

“To here, you took your time.”

“Hey! We ran! Are you calling us slow?” Stan asked, gasping dramatically.

“Please. I could beat you in a race any day.” Richie pretended to flick his hair, making everybody around the coffee table laugh.

“Wanna bet?” Stan challenged.

“Oh you’re on.” Richie picked up a cushion and started having a pillow fight with Stan.

“Guys stop!” Eddie hissed, although still laughing at them. “You’ll get us kicked out! And I am not leaving without my cookie I’m telling you.”

“Don’t worry Ed’s, you’ll get your cookie, now lighten up a bit.”

“Don’t call me Ed’s.” He rolled his eyes and picked up a cushion to throw at Richie but stopped because the waitress had arrived.

They all took there drinks and snacks and carried on chatting.

This was what Stan liked, everybody happy and getting along. At this moment in time Stan felt care free, and maybe even happy? What ever it was, he enjoyed it.

“Where now?” Ben asked. Everybody had stood up now and was ready to leave.

“I don’t know, let’s just wander round and see what’s there.” Bev answered, sensibly.

Everybody followed her out the room and into the open.

Stan thought it was safe to say the the outside, was indeed, his favourite place. Especially in Whitemore. The air was filled with the smell of sea salt and autumn leaves flew around, decorating the cobbled paths. The atmosphere was filled with public chit chat and everybody looked somewhat happy, and Stan could relate for once.

It’s almost as if Whitemore was changing him.

It was giving him a new home.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, wandering around town**

Eddie noticed everything about the small town near Whitemore. He saw how the sun glinted on the shops windows, he saw the mountains in the distance, and the way it felt so homely. Everything here seemed so perfect to him, so unbelievably perfect.

The only time Eddie had been to the town when he was still with his Mum was on her orders. He’d cycle to the Pharmacy every week and collect whatever was on the small recipe he had been given, and then head straight back. If he was lucky, he’d make it home within ten minutes. On a good day. On a bad day, some dipshits would yell at him from across the street and on really bad day Henry and his lot would beat him up.

But here felt so different. There were no Pharmacy’s stocked up high with fake pills to keep little boys little and there was no mullet wearing assholes waiting for you to turn the corner.

In fact, Eddie though it was like a half fairytale, with the old shops and cobblestone walkways. He loved everything about the town because everything was different. He didn’t feel trapped there. He felt free. He could go to whatever shops he wanted and buy someone that wasn’t on a recipe.

It was like home.

“Hey, earth to Eddie?” Stan said, shaking his thoughts away.

“Oh, sorry.” Eddie said apologetically, turning to face the boy.

“Are you okay?” Stan asked. He was holding a bag, and Eddie knew some things for Mike’s birthday were buried at the bottom.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Eddie replied truthfully. “Just thinking, that’s all.”

Stan smiled, and the two started to walk over to the other five, all crowded around a bookstore.

“We were thinking about checking the Cinema out.” Stan said. “We still have a few hours to kill and I haven’t seen a movie in ages.”

“Sounds good. Where’s the Cinema?” Eddie asked.

“Downtown area, I believe.” Stan replied as they reached the bookstore.

“Can we check inside quickly?” Bev asked, looking away from the window.

“What do you want to get?” Stan asked, looking over her head and into the store.

“Don’t know.” Beverly said, walking in. “Something exciting.”

“All about fucking I’m sure.” Richie said.

Mike groaned and Bill shook his head blankly. Everyone had gotten use to Richie’s humour by now, and Eddie thought they loved it really. It was something to break tension , and it did help. If was ever a awkward moment, you could count on Trashmouth to send it away in a heartbeat.

“I’ll go to the non-fiction area.” Ben said, looking around. “I want to pick up a book on Architecture. Who knows, maybe I will be good at it?” He smiled at the end and Eddie truly thought it could light up the whole room.

Stan and Bill went with him too, and Beverly practically skipped off to look at the books.

“Where do you want to go?” Mike asked Eddie and Richie.

Eddie was suddenly struck with how free he actually was. He could look at any of these books, all of them if he had time. And he could buy them too, and read them at Whitemore, and get another and read that.

He’d never had books when he was with his Mum, despite often wanting some. His old school had a small bookshelf, and he’d spend his lunches flicking through semi destroyed books. His Mum did own some, but Eddie never particularly felt like reading up on the twenty ways you could get the flu, so he stayed away from them.

Reading had always been some sort of escape for him at school. Even if the books were old and weren’t what others would consider best sellers, Eddie liked them. When things got really hard, he’d pretend he was someone in a book. Because, he guessed, book stories end happily. And that’s what he wanted more than anything.

But now he was standing at the entrance of a book store filled with different stories, and he could read whatever one he wanted. And he didn’t feel like he needed to be inside a book anymore.

“This way!” Eddie said, running off in a similar way Bev had.

“Spaghetti can you wait up?” He heard Richie call from behind him, and he rounded a corner before stopping still.

A shelf full of books for ‘young adults’ was towering above him, and each cover looked equally exciting to him.

“Shit kid, have you never been a bookstore before?” Mike laughed, stopping next to him.

“No.” Eddie answered truthfully.

Mike and Richie didn’t say anything, and Eddie scanned the books. He only had a fiver in his pocket, but he was determined to use it.

After a short while, he picked up a book entitled ‘The Island of Adventure’ by Enid Blyton. He turned it over, and saw that it was almost twice the amount he had. He mentally kicked himself, putting it back.

“Why did you put it back?” Richie asked from the corner, where he was holding a vibrate covered book.

“Don’t have enough.” Eddie said, trying to shrug it off. “It’s fine I’ll get it when we come here again, I’ll probably have enough for it by then.”

Mike picked it up and flipped it over. “I’ll buy it for you.” He said simply.

“What? Why?”

“Everyone deserves to have a book.” Mike said, and it was so honest and kind that Eddie thought he may explode with gratitude.

“You sure you have enough?” Eddie croaked, the sudden emotion washing over him.

“Sure I do.” Mike said, heading to the checkout. “My dad sends me money each week, see. We earn a bit from the farm, selling food and all that. I’m not gonna go broke.”

Eddie laughed, and thanked Mike.

The three stepped outside into the cold November evening, the others waiting for them. Beverly was holding a book too, cheeks glowing.

“Think we still have time for the cinema?” Stan asked once they were out, checking his watch.

“Should do.” Mike replied, handing Eddie his book. “We still have three hours.”

“Thanks Mike.” Eddie said gently, and Bev looked up from your book.

“Eddie, you look freezing.” She said.

“I’m not cold!” Eddie objected, feeling cold.

“S-sure.” Bill said.

“Maybe slightly-“

“That’s because you always wear summer clothes.” Richie said. “I mean, you have shorts on in November!”

Eddie huffed. “The cinema isn’t that long of a walk.” He said, but Richie shook his head. He pulled his hoodie off, and handed it over.

“Wear this.” He said.

“Won’t you be cold?” Eddie asked meekly.

“Nah, I don’t feel the cold.”

“Then why did you have it in the first place?”

“Eddie.” Richie sighed. “Just wear my hoodie.”

Eddie did, pulling it over his head as they started to walk to the Cinema. He was immediately grateful for the warmth, and made a mental note to dress more appropriately for the weather.

“That’s totally your colour.” Richie said next to him, and Eddie just laughed.

The walk to the Cinema wasn’t that long, or maybe it just didn’t feel like it was. Eddie and Richie talked the whole way there, about anything that came to mind. They were at the back of their group of friends, and coincidentally, the last to know what they were actually watching at the cinema.

“Psycho? What’s that?” Eddie asked Bill in the lobby, and Richie gasped dramatically.

“You’ve never heard of Psycho?” Richie asked, and Eddie shook his head.

“None of u-us a-a-apart from R-r-richie have actually s-seen it.”Bill said, collecting everyone’s money. “But i-it’s a h-h-horror.”

“Think you all can handle it?” Bev asked from the circle the seven had formed.

“Handle it?” Eddie practically laughed. “I think I’ll be fine.”

Once Bill had gotten all their money, he directed Bev and Richie to actually order the tickets, claiming his stutter would be too hard to understand. They came back grinning with seven tickets, and they all went into the dark room.

A few other people were sitting down, and Eddie even recognised a few from Whitemore.

They sat down, chatting a bit louder than they probably should of, and waited for the movie to start.

“My Mum watched it once, there was a lot of screaming.” Ben said.

“Well, I s-s-saw some of i-it when my p-p-p-pare-parents were w-w-watching it.” Bill said. “This g-g-girl goes t-to a m-motel.”

“And?”

“A-nd that’s all I s-s-saw.”

“Well I saw it-“ Richie started, but the six shushed him, not wanting any spoilers.

The lights went off suddenly and the screen lit up.

The first twenty minutes of the movie dragged on, and Eddie felt the last few days of stress catch up with him. He rested his head gently on Richie’s shoulder, still having a view of the Movie.

“You good there Eds?” Richie asked quietly.

“Mmm.” Eddie mumbled, and Richie tilted his head so it was leaning on Eddie’s.

They stayed like for the entire film, even in the last ten minutes when the actual killer was revealed and everyone cheered.

“That was pretty good.” Mike said when they were out in the lobby, his face completely happy.

“I knew it all along.” Stan said smugly.

“No you didn’t.” Richie said, shaking his head so his hair became more of a mess than it originally was. “No one could of guessed his Mum was actually dead, that was the whole plot twist.”

“That I guessed.”

The seven friends walked out of the Cinema, heading back to Whitemore together. Eddie looked up as his friends were laughing and couldn’t help but think how perfect everything looked.

He looked at his friends and thought how perfect they all were.

 

 **Beverly** **Marsh** , **walking** **back** **to** **Whitemore**  

Beverly had never felt closer to anyone in the world than she did that moment.

They seven of them were in a line, walking back to Whitemore from the town. Silly as it was, their arms were all linked as the walked. Mike was on Bev’s right, and Bill on her left.

No had said anything for a while. The silence didn’t settle in her, like it normal did, but brought a kind of peace to them.

It was nice, she supposed. Normally you could hardly hear yourself think in Whitemore, but out here in the quiet you could think freely.

A draft of wind blew her hair back suddenly. The night was cool and the sky was turning a deep blue, outlining Whitemore brilliantly. The four towers stood out behind the dark sky, and Bev could pinpoint East’s tower if she was asked to.

“Yanno, I’ve never noticed how pretty Whitemore actually is.” Bev spoke up quietly, speaking her mind.

Mike squeezed her arm. “Thought that too.” He said lowly. “It looks so lonely but sort of beautiful too.”

It was true; the building stood alone on a hill, mountains scattered behind it. No other buildings were around it, only trees, and the sea met the side on the hill.

Bev supposed it did look alone up there, nothing besides it. You’d never suspect kids living there, and you’d certainly not suspect what went on inside. But from where she was standing right now, it just looked isolated. Isolated and slightly mysterious. She didn’t think you could be lonely and pretty, but apparently Whitemore was an exception.

“I never expected this.” Eddie said from the end of the line, arm linked with Richie. “I mean, I knew it couldn’t get much worse than home but I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it. But I do. This is better than I could of guessed, if that made sense? I didn’t expect to have friends, but I do. So I guess my expectations weren’t what is actually happening.”

Bev felt her heart flutter at this, because a strange feeling of deja vu came over her. Home life for her wasn’t exactly a fairytale, which was why she’d came away in the first place. But Eddie was right; Whitemore had offered more than she’d expected.

“That made sense.” She told him. “Life sucks so bad that sometimes you just wanna run away.”

“And we did.” Eddie said, and he sounded so quiet that Bev almost didn’t hear him.

“Life h-here is better than a-a-anything I’d of g-got at home.” Bill said, stutter lighter than normal. “Especially a-after...uh-“

Richie coughed loudly and Bev felt like she was intruding on something.

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.” She said to Bill, meeting his eyes under the moonlight. Bill was nice, and she wanted to be there for him through whatever. But, if Bill wasn’t ready then he wasn’t ready. And she wasn’t going to prey.

Bill just smiled sadly. “You g-guys deserve t-to know.

“My b-b-b-bro-brother went m-m-missing a m-m-month b-before I came h-here. I became no one t-to my p-p-p-p-p-parents, and all w-we ever did was l-l-look for him.

“After a w-w-while it b-became clear h-he wasn’t c-c-coming back. But m-my p-p-p-p-parents were so u-u-upset they s-shipped me off.”

Beverly felt her heart break for Bill. She’d never asked him what him home life was like ever, and thought that if she had maybe he could of opened up earlier.

“Shit man.” Stan said from Mike’s right. “I had no idea-“

“Don’t b-b-blame yourself.” Bill said meekly. “You c-couldn’t of known. I o-only told R-r-r-richie.

“You can talk to us.” Ben said gently. “Anytime. We can just listen if you want. That helps sometimes. And don’t ever feel bad about ranting to us, okay?”

Bill sniffed and Beverly smiled up at him again, making a vow to herself to check in on Bill once in a while. On all of them.

“Guess all our lives before this were shitty then.” She said, trying to lighten the mood and leave a space for them to all open up.

Ben laughed. “I love my Mum, but school was the real thing that sucked.”

“Us losers in it together then.” Richie said, swinging his arm around Eddie.

“Losers huh?” Eddie said, side eyeing Richie’s arm.

“Hey, that has a ring.” Mike said, and Stan gave a groan.

“Please no.” he said.

“What?” Ben asked. “Are we about to call ourselves the losers club?”

“Ironic, almost.” Richie mused from the end. “I mean, we were losers but now, less so.”

“Don’t bet on it.” Bev teased, and they all laughed.

“So, that’s what we’re called now?” Eddie asked. “The losers club.”

There was a few seconds of silence. Bev thought it over and came to one conclusion: fuck it.

“Yeah, the Losers Club.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be Mike’s party planning but for now we thought a trip into town would be good so you could really see the Characters development and then interacting with each other


	9. Life Of The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some party planning and Eddie being pureeee

  **Eddie Kaspbrak, heading to Geography class**

“When was the last time we had geography? It seems like weeks.” Stan asked, flicking through his timetable.

“Forgot what geography was for second, so it must have been a while.” Richie mused.

“Ehh.” Bev debated. “You seem to forget anything about this place within seconds of not speaking about it.”

“That is also accurate.”

They reached the geography class and pushed open the door, and inside they were greeted with a cover teacher.

“He seems clueless, let’s all sit together, he won’t know the difference.” Mike whispered, ushering them to the back corner.

“Ok class!” He clapped his hands, attempting to get the students’ attention. But failing. “Class!”

Everybody lazily looked up, still murmuring quietly.

“I am your cover teacher for today.”

“No shit.” Richie mumbled.

“My name is Mr Can and today we’ll be watching a video about climate change.”

“Can you leave?” Richie joked again, making Eddie chuckle.

“Was something I said funny?” Sir shot up out of his seat, walking toward Eddie.

“No sir.” He looked at sir straight in the eye, daring him to carry on.

“So you laugh for no reason?”

“I was coughing, am I not allowed to cough?” Eddie challenged.

“Sure sounded like a laugh to me.” Mr Can said, not giving in.

“So your saying an asthmatic kid is not allowed to cough because it sounds like a laugh?”

“I never said that.” And with that, he walked off back to the desk.

“Show him Ed’s!” Richie silently high fived Eddie.

The losers around him we whisper-cheering for Eddie, but they shouldn’t be, not really, all he did was make a teacher go away. And that’s exactly why Eddie had made a special place in his heart for them.

Even from the very beginning, when he had no one at this school. They would keep him company. Eddie started almost a diary in his head.

Bev, she was the first one who he truly had made a friend in, the first one who truly cared. She was so kind and thoughtful, understanding over everything. Knows exactly what to say at all times. She didn’t even mind when Eddie came out to her, she just told him to stay true to himself, and not to care what people think of him. Because in reality, does it really matter?

Ben, so caring and smart and creative, Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. He puts so much work into everything and believes in everybody’s ideas, even if no one else does. Trustworthy. So trustworthy. You could tell him your deepest secret and he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Bill, he doesn’t realise it but he’s so mentally strong. Over losing his brother, over his stutter. And even if everything gets to him, he’ll still bottle everything inside and carry on. Putting his needs after everybody else’s. He gets on so well with everybody, probably not an evil bone in his body. And if anyone ever needed him, he’d be there, come what may.

Stan, even if he’s quiet, his presence manages to keep everybody company. He’s understanding and kind but can drag a bitch if he needed too. And Eddie lived that about him. He thinks of himself as a disruption to all living thing, but really, he’s what everybody needs. Someone to rely on. Someone who will listen and understand. And sometimes, silence is better than noise. And Stan provides that, without him, there wouldn’t be a moments peace to be left alone with thoughts.

Mike, the most kind and caring person Eddie could think of. Would definitely go through thick and thin with you to the ends of the earth. Thoughtful and, again, understanding. He goes out of his way for you. Never thinks of himself as higher than anybody and he builds up friendships so easily and Eddie always wondered how he did it. Now he knows. He has the qualities of any best friend anyone would ever want. He would never say a bad word about anybody, even if they were in a war. Eddie aspired to become him.

Richie, the goofball that he is, can be sensible and even if he does make a joke out of everything, he listens. He’s always covering up his actual feelings of anything and only lets them out to ones he really cares about. He’s strong minded and ambitious and yet kind and gentle. And Eddie is thankful to have someone in his life who can crack a joke at any awkward moment or put someone in there place if they talk bad about any of his friends. Everything about Richie just makes Eddie smile, the way he always positions his glasses back I place every two minutes because they are slightly too big for him, or the way he has nicknames for everybody, but only seems to use them on me, Eddie thought to himself. Or the way he can make anyone feel ten times better by just being in their presence. All in all, Richie was loveable.

And this is why he had to tell all of them.

**Ben Hanscom, after a particularly boring Math lesson**

“Well that couldn’t have dragged on even more if it tried.” Richie said, throwing his belongings into his bag at the speed of light.

“Wow I was wrong, you did get one answer correct today.” Ben laughed, packing his bag neatly, swinging it over his shoulders soon after.

“Woah woah woah! Did I say you kids were dismissed?” Mr Smith shouted from the front of the class room.

“The bell went..?” Richie pointed at the door slightly, pointing out the other students who were fleeing out of different classrooms.

“The bell doesn’t indicate when you leave!” He carried on howling the place down.

“Sorta does-“ Ben whispered quietly, hoping sir hadn’t heard him.

“Don’t answer back either! For that, you two, unpack all your things and stay an extra five minutes!” His face has turned to a new shade of crimson Ben didn’t quite know how to describe.

“But sir they didn’t do anythi-“ Stan spoke up for them, surprising both Richie and Ben beyond belief.

“You too, Uris!” Mr Smith spat his name and Stan looked down. “Now, the rest of you may go, sorry for keeping you past the bell. You three, sit down.”

Ben could’ve pummelled him. He really could’ve. All for packing up after the bell, when they were supposed to? And then apologising to the rest for keeping them past the bell? How reassuring to know his maths teacher’s logic didn’t add up? Ben loved it.

The three did as the teacher asked, not willingly, but that’s an understatement.

“He’s joking, right?” Richie scoffed, ripping open his maths book.

“No talking! Now, I’ll be back in a few minutes, I’m not missing lunch for you kids.” He said, and with that, he stormed out of the room.

“No talking my ass.” Richie rolled his eyes.

“That was a bit drastic, not gonna lie.” Stan said, resting his head in his hands. “But, I did come up with a good idea for Mike’s party!” He finished excitedly.

“Shit Mike’s party! Almost forgot about that.” Richie said. In all fairness, it had drifted out of Ben’s mind slightly. But he hadn’t forgotten, there is a difference, Ben was convinced.

Just like at home. He was always reminded, about his father. Almost as if he wasn’t allowed to forget. And if he did, he would curse himself for it. Because “it’s bad to forget” was always drilled into his head. And that’s when Ben taught himself that there was, should, be a difference between forgetting and just putting the memory away for a while. He taught himself that maybe it wasn’t healthy to always be remembering, because if you are, there is no room for newer, more exciting memories. Right?

“Anyway, tell us!” Richie flicked his pen repeatedly.

“Well-“

“What are you kids doing in here, it’s lunch you do realise?” They were greeted with Matron entering the room.

“We were told to stay back for packing away after the bell.” Said Ben, still highly confused over the situation.

“Odd.” She shook her head.

“Tell us about it.” Richie rolled his eyes again, quickly becoming agitated.

The three watched her walk around the classroom a bit, dusting the odd bit of radiator. “You know,” she started. “He always has been quite the drama queen.”

“You’ve known him for long then?” Ben asked, his eyes following her.

“Oh yes dear, ever since he’s started working here.” She replied in a matter of factly tone.

“Oh.” Ben said, not really knowing what to say anymore.

She finished cleaning the room and turned to them. “You can get going now, i’ll tell Mr Smith I’ve dismissed you, hopefully he’ll be calmed down by then.”

“Thanks miss.” The all said in unison and started packing up for the second time that lesson.

Once they were out of the classroom they walked swiftly down to the canteen.

“What a legend.” Richie laughed, shaking his head.

“Now, my idea-“

“Guys! You’re here!” Bev jumped from her seat, calling them over.

“If I get cut off one more time I don’t know what i’ll do.” Stan muttered.

“Now you know how I feel.” Richie said flatly and they all laughed.

They took there seats and the usual chatter of lunch drifted in the air, making Ben feel content.

“How are we gonna hear the idea now?” Richie whispered to Stan, a little too loudly .

“Wh-w-wh-What idea?” Bill said from across the table. Richie ushered him over.

“Stan has a party idea for Mike’s birthday, but we can’t hear it now since Mike is here.” He explained.

“Well, I could t-tuh-t-t-take Mike o-ow-ow-outside for a W-wh-w-while and you can f-f-fuh-f-fill me in after?” Bill suggested, making the face he always makes when he’s thinking something through.

“Oh yeah! Good idea!” Richie shout-whispered again.

“What’s a good idea?” Bev chimed in, turning to face the little circle that had formed.

“Richie you really have to work on your whispering skills.” Ben said, chuckling lightly.

You’ll find out in a minute, Bev. Now Bill, go distract Mike outside for a while, make sure you stay within sight of the canteen, then one of us will come to find you to bring you guys back in. Got it?” Richie said, almost stumbling over his words.

“I-i-I-I think s-s-suh-s-so.” Bill said, and got up. “Hey M-muh-m-Mike? C-can I t-talk to you? O-ow-outside?”

“Oh, Yeah sure, what’s up?” Mike got up and followed Bill outside.

Eddie turned to the four. “What the fuck was that about?”

“Stan has an idea for Mike’s birthday!” Richie said for a final time. He turned to Stan. “Now spill!”

“Right so. I say, midnight feast!” Stan practically squealed. There was silence for a few short seconds.

“That’s it? I’ve been in anticipation for at least 15 minutes and all I get is that?” Richie slumped in his chair.

Ben shook his head slightly, “no I think he’s onto something here.”

“We’ll be found out, and snitched on, what’s the point in the hassle?” Richie carried on negatively.

“Since when did you care what teachers say?” Bev laughed.

“I don’t, but Ed’s here might do.” He ruffled Eddie’s hair. Eddie flipped him off.

“Stan’s idea could work. We’ll just not tell anybody, obviously including Mike, and in that case, nobody will know.” Ben tried to suss out some sort of plan in his head. “Yeah, next time we go to town, we will buy a bunch of food and drink and then store it in the common room cupboard until midnight.”

“Yes! We can decorate the room in the afternoon before his birthday and just not let him in there.” Stan was almost jumping in his seat now.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Eddie asked, struggling to keep up with the plan forming right in front of their eyes.

“We’ll figure out something relevant when the time comes.” Stan replied.

“Then,” Ben carried on. “We’ll wake everybody up a little before midnight so we can set the final things up, then someone can go get Mike up and get him to come to the common room, we’d make up some sort of excuse then boom! We’ll switch on the light and give him the best birthday surprise ever!” Ben almost yelled the last part in elation.

“That. Is the best idea I’ve heard EVER!” Bev cartwheeled off the table.

“Ben you frickin genius! How do you come up with this stuff?” Eddie gawked in wonder. He looked over to Richie. “Does that settle you Rich?”

“Only if it does you, Ed’s.” He winked jokingly. “Ok, we good here? Should I get Mike and Bill now?”

“Go for it, i’ll explain the plan to Bill later.” Ben replied.

Ben was satisfied with the plan, and he had a funny feeling Mike was going to love it.

What could go wrong?

**Mike Hanlon, walking outside with Bill Denbrough**

Mike got up and followed after Bill, taking a look behind him to the others who were now huddled. Mike scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, but chose to ignore it.

“So uh, what’s up?” He asked Bill, who was now leaning on a brick wall opposite the canteen.

“W-wuh-w-well I was just woh-wuh-w-wondering how y-y-you were.” Bill rushed, as if he was thinking through a conversation there and then.

“Oh. I uh, I’m fine I guess. Couldn’t that have been said inside though? Like in the warm?” Mike wrapper his arms around him like a blanket.

“W-well what I w-was tr-truh-t-trying to say was,” Bill stopped for a second, then carried on. “You kn-n-no-know when I had th-th-that panic attack? And I s-s-s-said I didn’t wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, y-you said I c-cuh-c-could talk to you about it whenever I w-was ready, so I th-thought what b-b-better time than the p-pr-pre-pr-present?” He finished, quietly annoyed with his on going stutter.

“Ok, if that’s how you feel, then I’m listening.” Mike reassured. Bill smiled and looked down to his shoes.

“Well, everything w-was fine at home, I was a-actually doing pr-p-pretty well in school. And then one n-night, I made Georgie a p-pa-paper boat. And I remember him just b-being so happy a-about it.” Bill sighed and drew in a deep breath before carrying on. “He begged to g-go and play outside with I-it, and I knew my parents would s-say no. S-so I didn’t bother, and l-luh-let him go.” Bill sniffed.

“A-and it was pretty late at night, so the n-next morning, when I w-woke up, I went though to h-his room, a-a-an-and he w-wasn’t there.” Mike could see Bill was on the verge of tears and rubbed his arm reassuringly. “I told mom and dad about it, and then it all began. My grades dropped down, my life had fallen apart, my parents hated me and blamed me every time I stepped into their eyesight. They hated me that much that I started to hate myself. And curse and curse and curse myself that it was my fault.

“And I believed it.” He finished, and a single tear leaked down his rosy cheeks.

“It isn’t your fault, you can’t have known. And if that hadn’t happened, something worse could’ve, everything happens for a reason.” Mike smiled, trying to cheer him up.

“But why t-tuh-to him.” Bill whispered, still staring down at his shoes.

“I don’t have the answer to that, but we don’t truly know he’s gone yet.” Mike sighed.

“He’s been g-g-go-gone for months n-now , there is very very little ch-chuh-ch- chance of life now.” Bill shook his head. “I’m s-s-so sorry Mike, I d-didn’t mean f-for this to b-be some wh-w-whiny talk about my h-home life.”

“Don’t be sorry, I don’t mind one bit, and I’m here for you.” He said calmly.

“But what a-about you?” Bill said, wiping the tear and facing Mike. “What about y-y-your home l-life?”

“Oh mine? Don’t bother, it’s not interesting at all.”

“Well, y-you listened to me, it’s o-only f-f-fair I listen to you.” Said Bill.

“Well, long story short, I worked on a farm, I was homeschooled, I had my life mapped right out a head of me, I knew exactly what I wanted. Then suddenly I was whisked off to here and now I’m not so sure. My parents stopped me from working on the farm because they didn’t want me to end up like them, but what they didn’t realise was that I was happy knowing how my life was gonna turn out. Now I’m clueless.” Mike summed his life up within three sentences.

“Isn’t everybody a b-buh-b-bit clueless of th-th-their future? Isn’t th-that just a part of life?” Bill asked.

“I guess, but would’ve happily gone with out it if I had a choice, but, then again, I wouldn’t have met you guys or experience any of this.” Mike pointed around the school. “So in a way, I guess I have to thank my parents.”

“It’s amazing wh-What talking t-to someone about l-life can do to you huh?” Bill smiled at him.

“I guess we have to talk about the bad, to have time to fully appreciate the good.” Mike looked up, blissfully.

They were quiet for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, when Richie called.

“Did you guys get lost out there? Come on it’s freezing.” Richie waved them in. Mike had completely forgotten about how he was sure he was getting frost bite on his toes, and happily agreed to coming back in.

“Mike? Th-thank you. You really a-are a good p-person to talk to.” Bill nodded.

“You wanna hear something else good?” Mike asked. “When you were talking about your home, you didn’t stutter once.”

A grin formed on Bill’s face and he started to walk back inside, Mike following shortly after.

He took one last look outside of the frost pricked grass tips and the empty trees, and fully appreciated them for the first time. He was right, you had to endure the bad, and as a reward, you’d gain happiness.

Mike had just gained happiness.

**Richie Tozier, History Class**

Whitemore, in Richie’s mind, was like a place he’d always wanted to go to but had never thought existed. Like a place from a fairytale, where people like you and the sun shines and you’re genuinely happy. But it had taken Richie ‘till the middle of November to realise this.

He didn’t hate his home. He hated who he was at home. His parents were good people, but fell short when they needed to actually be parents to him, especially as he got older. And the people he talked he got along with couldn’t really be classified as friends. But since coming to Whitemore, as stupid as it sounded in his head, Richie felt comfortable just being him. He didn’t need to think over all his words, or snap at people just so he fitted in. Actually, Richie started to wonder the last time he’d actually been his true self, before Whitemore.

He thought it was a very long time.

But Whitemore was the here and now, and Richie couldn’t of needed it anymore. You only realise how hard it is to breathe after you’ve been choking. And now, Richie found he was happy. He had friends, he was trying in (most of) his lessons and overall felt way more at home than he had in years.

He didn’t want to lose those feelings.

Which is why he wanted to talk to someone about it. And because Richie was determined not to screw anything up, he chose the most level-headed and honest person he could think of; Stan.

They had History, and Richie was sitting next to Stan. Their teacher was going on about something or another, but Richie had to talk to someone before he exploded.

“You’re leg’s bouncing a lot.” Stan said dryly, not turning to look at him.

“Ah.” Richie grinned, not knowing why he felt so awkward suddenly. Mr Lantic handed out their books, and Richie took it as the perfect opportunity to say something.

“Hey, Stan?” He said quietly. “Can we talk?”

“Oh my God he’s coming out.”

“Sure.” Stan said, turning so he was facing Richie. “What’s been bothering you all afternoon?”

“Who’s to say I’ve been bothered all afternoon?”

“Richie,” Stan said, opening his book. “It’s pretty obvious. You’ve been fiddling with anything since lunch and you won’t stop moving. That’s key signs that point towards Richie Tozier Thinking. A rare concept, I know.”

Richie laughed lowly, then leaned forward. “Okay, you’ve got me. I’ve just really need to tell someone because it eats me.”

“Then tell me.” Stan said, making direct eye contact with Richie. “I’m all yours.”

Richie opened his mouth, but stopped himself. What was he supposed to say? How shit he used to be? Or how shit his old school was? Or how he wanted to change? What? And what if Stan listens and decides he doesn’t like Richie anymore? That would be another person he’d scared off. And-

“Richie?” Stan asked again. “We haven’t got till Christmas.”

“Well.” Richie said, speaking slowly. “Before Whitemore, I use to go to a different school.”

“No way.”

Richie gave Stan a look, then continued. “It wasn’t too great. I mean, it wasn’t terrible either, Ben sounds like he got it worse in that department, but overall it just sucked.”

“You got bullied?” Stan asked gently and oh shit, Richie didn’t think it possible for his heart to beat this fast.

“No.” Richie said in a very quiet voice. “It wasn’t... I was the bully.”

Stan tilted his head. “I don’t get you.”

Richie decided it was now or never. You speak or you don’t. Honest or you lie.

“Well, my school was pretty big. There were a good amount of students in each year, and to not be bullied you either needed to be popular or be the bully. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t automatically pick the latter. When I first started, I was one of the most outgoing person you’d ever meet. Talking to anyone about anything. I was in year three, so obviously I understood less about status. But things went downhill pretty fast the next year.

“I guess people were smart enough to know about popularity now. Of course I was down at the bottom of the chart. I was a trashmouth, and trashmouths never get lucky. So for a while, I was bullied. Pushed and laughed at. I mean, after hearing Bev and Eds it doesn’t sound that bad but... it was, at the time. I thought I was a huge problem and I didn’t know what to do-“ Richie had to cough violently to stop from breaking down in front of Stan.

“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.” Stan said gently, but Richie shook his head and continued.

“After a year of being pushed around and lonely, I decided that the only way to stop being bullied was to bully. I started talking to the people who’d go around tripping you up and stuff, and soon realised that plain old Richie Tozier wasn’t going to cut it. If I was going to be their friend, I couldn’t be the Trashmouth everyone laughed. So I changed. I didn’t speak as much, and when I did they were insults. I-...I didn’t like it. Not one bit. But once I was in, I couldn’t get out.

“Our final year came around, and I was as close to them as ever. Pushing people was my daily routine by now. Things got pretty bad. I’d bunk almost everyday, set fire alarms off, break windows. All because I wanted to fit in and- I don’t know.

“Anyway, my parents took me out of school because of how bad it was getting. They said I couldn’t leave my room. First of all I thought I was the one getting the long end of the stick. But after a while, I got thinking. I found a photograph album, and I just stared to cry. And I didn’t stop for ages. Because I realised, it’s easy to be someone else when you hate yourself so much.”

And fuck, he was crying now. He felt the sting in his eyes, and brought his hand up to brush a lose tear away.

Stan put his arm on Richie’s shoulder and smiled sadly at him.

“It’s okay.” He said. “You did something wrong but you didn’t do it in spite. And you know that. If you know you’ve done something wrong and you’re filling to make right...”

Richie laughed, not bothering to hide his tears anymore. “It doesn’t make me a bad person?”

Stan fell quiet for a while, then looked at him. “Was that Richie really you?”

“No.” Richie said. “That was one of the first things I thought on the way to Whitemore.”

“Then it’s not you that has the bad in them. Don’t get me wrong, what you didn’t doesn’t sound good Richie but, you’re still a kid. You have time to look back and learn and change and... and be Richie Tozier. The actual Richie Tozier.”

Richie smiles and shit he hadn’t cried this much since the summer.

“Thanks Stan.” He said lowly.

Stan smiled. “Anytime.”

They both went quiet for a while, writing down what they were meant to, and it occurred to Richie that he didn’t have to be anyone else anymore. He had friends that excepted him for him.

And maybe that meant he excepted himself too.

**Beverly Marsh, with North and East in their Common Room**

When she thought about it, Bev thought it was weird that she and Eddie had never talked before Whitemore. They’d been in the same school, and it wasn’t like they were overflowing with people to be friends with. So that left Bev wondering why.

She supposed you had to be careful, at her old school. Bully wasn’t just a light shove in the hallway. And with Henry Bowers free to roam, it wasn’t exactly a place for you to make friends.

But her and Eddie were close now. And even though she wished it had been for longer, it was so much better at Whitemore.

So when Eddie came to her after lessons, she was obviously going to listen.

They were in their common room, along with almost all of East and North. Bev was squashed up next to Eddie on the sofa, reading the book she’d gotten in town. It was short, but it was a book none the less. One she was extremely grateful for. Bev hadn’t really had books before this.

She turned the page over, enjoying the silence of the common room.

“Bev?” Eddie whispered urgently, breaking her concentration. “Can we talk?”

Bev closed her book carefully, looking at Eddie slightly concerned. “Sure.”

“Not here though.” Eddie said, giving the room a sweeping look. “Somewhere else.”

Bev just nodded, grabbing Eddie’s hand and walking out the common room, yelling something about delayed homework.

Once out of the common room, she practically ran to the stairs leading up to East’s dorms, knowing it was probably be completely empty.

“So, what’s wrong?” She asked, sitting down on the steps.

“I want to come out to everyone.” Eddie said quickly.

Bev raised her eyebrows. Eddie came out to her a while ago, and she hadn’t told anyone about it. Honestly, she didn’t really care who Eddie liked, long as he was happy. But she could definitely tell that this was a big thing, and she’d help him in whatever way she could.

“Everyone? Like the whole of East and North?”

“No.” Eddie said, shaking his head slightly. “Not them. But I do want to come out to the rest of the losers. I mean, they deserve to know. Bill’s been so open about Georgie recently and I trust them.”

Bev grabbed his hand. “If you’re sure, then go for it.”

Eddie smiled weakly at her, all his worries reflected in his eyes.

“You don’t think they’ll mind?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Bev said honestly. “They’re the nicest people i’ve ever known, and I doubt that they’d hate you for liking boys.”

Eddie laughed and squeezed Bev’s hand.

“Thanks.” He whispered, and Bev smiled.

They both made their way back to the common room, where the rest of the losers were. Eddie said he wanted to do it privately, so they were going to wait until it was time to go to their dormitories, then tell them.

Bev was worried for Eddie too because, even though she honestly thought they wouldn’t care, there was still a part of her that thought that they might.

The bell rang out, meaning it was time to head to your dorm and get ready for bed. Matron would check soon.

Everyone trailed out the common room. Eddie coughed and Beverly grabbed Ben’s shoulder.

“Stay for a few minutes.” She said, and Ben nodded,

The other losers stopped to, until they were the only seven left.

“W-w-what’s up?” Bill asked Bev.

She looked at Eddie and she tried to tell him that it would be okay. No matter what, he had her. He always would.

“Um.” Eddie croaked, and he blushed as soon as he said it.

“If you don’t want to do this, then you don’t have to.” Bev said quietly, but Eddie shook his head.

“I’m ready.” He said then, laughed lightly.

“You okay?” Stan asked.

“Yeah, you seem nervous.” Mike said and Bev was reassured just by them caring.

“It’s nothing bad.” Eddie said, rocking forward and back on his feet. “Well, I hope it isn’t-“

“It isn’t.” Bev said forcefully.

Eddie shot Bev a grateful look then continued.

“I don’t want to turn this into a sob story but for this you all know I didn’t have any friends before Whitemore .” He said, standing at the back of the room. “And I’ve only known you for a few weeks but it feels like we’ve been friends forever and-I’m ranting now but you’ve been so open with me I feel like I owe it to be open to you.

“My mum isn’t that uh... accepting so now that I’m okayish with being me I really don’t want to lose that and uh...I’m gay.”

There was a beat of silence and Bev felt like the whole world might explode at any moment when Ben ran up from the sofa and hugged Eddie.

Beverly let out a breath she was holding and went over too, hugging Eddie and Ben.

Pretty soon the rest of the losers joined them, until the seven of them were all hugging in their common room.

“Thank you guys.” Eddie whispered, head leaning on Richie’s shoulder and his arms around Ben. “It means a lot.”

“We’re not going to leave you because of who you like, Eddie.” Mike said, squashed next to Bev and Stan. “We never will.”

“And fuck all the people who do leave you.” Richie said. “They don’t deserve our Eds.”

Eddie mumbled something about not calling him Eds but he was still smiling.

“You having fun there?” Someone asked, and Bev jumped around.

Matron stood outside the open door, mouth stern but eyes twinkling.

“We w-w-were just-“ Bill started, but Matron just sighed.

“Just go now, come on.” She said, and they all rushed out, Eddie and Bev last.

“You did it then.” Bev said, and Eddie smiled.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

They walked off, not once noticing the figure that had been lurking outside the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot is kinda building up but we really wanted a deeper insight of all the chapters so you can kinda understand them better (and ofc Eddie coming out)


	10. Runaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alotttt happens in this but it’s definitely one of our favourite chapters so we hope you enjoy!

**Bill Denbrough, table for breakfast**

Bill wasn’t sure about this. Not at all. He knew it was all for a good cause in the end but, he didn’t like where it was going at that moment.

He loved Mike, they all did, but pushing him away every two seconds? Of course it’s going to make him question a lot. Question their friendship.

“G-g-Guys I don’t kn-know about this.” Bill said, walking to the line of people getting breakfast. “We are l-leaving Mike o-ow-out t-too much, something b-b-b-bad is gonna happen a-at some p-point.” He whispered.

“It’s all for a good cause, it’s only like a week now, give or take.” Stan shrugged, although Bill could see a glint in his eye that he, too, wasn’t too sure about it.

They took their usual seats at their two-pulled-together-tables, and attempted at chatting about usual things.

“So uh Mike, where is our library lesson room? Since we have it first.” Eddie smiled, forcing down, what’s meant to be, porridge.

“I don’t know, we’ll find it somehow I guess, we usually do.” Mike said, not meeting the eyes of anyone.

“Mike, my man, are you ok?” Richie asked, attempting to lighten the mood of the table.

“I’m fine.” He shrugged. “Hold on i’ll be back in a second.” He got up and walked to the boys bathroom.

“Well shit.” Richie sighed.

“Lets just carry on acting normal, we’ll walk to the library lesson together as usual, laugh and joke together, as usual, and hopefully everything will turn out fine.” Bev said, waffling down her toast.

Mike soon returned and they carried on eating breakfast as normal, well, as normal as they could. Bill hoped. And Mike seemed to have lightened up little. But just a little.

“Fuck this.” Richie slammed his hands on the table as the bell rang.

“Right, let’s go before Richie breaks any more tables.” Bev laughed dragging Richie up out of his chair.

“I can’t promise anything.” Richie retorted.

The seven strolled to the library, taking their assigned seats on their table. The librarians table.

“I can’t be the only one who hates her.” Eddie hissed.

“Your not alone.” Richie reassured.

“Right class, you’ll be reading in your table groups today.” She sat down and started talking to her table. “Today we’ll be reading the BFG by Roald Dahl.”

“I s-s-swear if w-we read a-another one of h-hi-his books i-i’ll Chuck m-m-myself out of th-that win-w-window.” Bill whispered to Eddie.

“Bill! No talking!” She snapped and bill sunk back in his chair. “Right, Ben, read the blurb please.”

Ben picked up the book and started to read the blurb, adding some characteristics into it.

“H-how is Ben m-making the book a-a-actually sound g-good-“ Bill whispered, almost to himself.

“Ben, stop, we don’t do impressions, read it normally. And Bill? If I have to speak to you one more time i’ll give you a detention.” Miss hushed him.

Ben read as flatly as he could, clearly making a point. Bill turned to Mike’s table, hoping he’d catch Mike’s eye, but he had no luck. He was just staring at his book, expressionless. Bill turned back round.

Stan must have saw him because he suddenly started whispering. “So, Mike’s birthd-“

“Stan!”

“Yes?”

“Quiet!” She snapped. “Sorry Ben.”

“Oh I’ve finished it..” he looked over to her.

“Ok, Bill, you can read the first page.” She insisted.

“M-m-Miss I c-can’t.” Bill said, demonstrating his reason without meaning to.

“And why is that?” She asked.

“Wha-?” Bill held his hands out, really considering whether to slap some sense into his clueless teacher.

“A stutter is no reason for you not to read.” She shot him a glare.

“Sorta is.” Eddie shrugged.

“Did I say you could speak?” She slammed on the table, making half of the class jump.

Eddie slumped down, flicking his pen.

“Now, Bill start reading.” Miss Park tried composing herself.

Bill attempted at the first sentence and turned into a stuttering mess. Man he hated his stutter.

A whole ten minutes later Bill got through the page, flushing maroon coloured red in embarrassment. He shared a look with Ben and he just nodded in reassurance.

“What is going on over there? There is nothing funny in the book so I don’t know what your laughing at!” She spoke up for the trillionth time that lesson.

“We weren’t laughing.” Ben’s voice wavered slightly in annoyance. Bill could tell he was on the verge of having an argument.

“Just be quiet and carry on following on.” She sighed dramatically.

“Miss Park, would you like me to take over?” Mrs Foy came over and addressed her nicely.

“I’m doing just fine, thank you miss.” She smiled. “Now, Richie you can carry on reading.”

“Fuck me.” He groaned.

After another five minutes of Richie cursing under his breath the whole time of reading, Stan finally got a word in edgeways.

“For Mike’s birthday, we need decor and stuff.” He whispered, not taking his eyes off Miss while he spoke.

“Huh? Speak louder!” Richie chuckled. If he was attempting a whisper, he failed.

“Richie what did we say about you whispering!” Bev hissed.

“Boys! You’re on your last straw here.”

“I’m a girl miss-“ Bev muttered.

“Shut your mouth, Miss Marsh!”

Bill knew no one would get a word out in this lesson, not with Miss ‘shut your mouth.’

But maybe it was for the best, because if in every lesson they were huddling, Mike would definitely suspect something, if he hadn’t already. Bill wasn’t like this, he couldn’t hide everything forever. But he had to keep telling himself it wasn’t for ever, in fact only for a week and a bit longer.

He just doesn’t like the thought over losing someone again like he had his brother.

Of losing someone he loved.

Of losing Mike.

 

**Richie Tozier, boys changing rooms**

“Its fucking freezing outside! No way in hell am I gonna do pe outside today.” Eddie groaned, chucking his pe kit across the changing room in annoyance.

“Cheer up Eds, it’s only like forty minutes.” Richie laughed, throwing his shirt over his head.

“B-B-Bev is so l-luh-lucky, she g-g-gets to do pe i-i-inside.” Bill moaned, pulling his socks on.

“We still need to figure out what sort of entertainment will be at Mike’s party. That library lesson thingy really didn’t go as planned.” Stan chuckled. “Speaking if Mike, where did he go?”

“He said he needed to talk to the teacher about something, then he left.” Said Ben. Richie got a sudden hint of guilt rising in his gut, and he could sense the others felt it too.

“Well, it gives us some time to get ideas.” Stan said positively.

“So we’ve organised food and drink, now we need to keep everybody from falling asleep.” Ben chortled.

“I’m sure Richie would solve that matter.” Eddie smirked at Richie, still refusing to get changed.

“Eh, even talent needs to have a rest at times.” Richie shrugged.

“We c-cuh-c-could get b-b-bor-board games?” Bill suggested.

“That would definitely send everybody to sleep. We need something more up beat.” Richie racked his brain for party ideas he’d used before, but they just ended up being pranks that failed miserably.

“That’s it! Music! We can buy records on vinyl!” Ben said excitedly. He was alone, everybody was totally and utterly lost, including Richie.

“What did you say?”

“V-eye-nal? Did you just insult me?”

“You know what that sounds like-“ Richie started before getting knocked in the side by Eddie’s elbow.

“You Guys don’t know what vinyl is? It’s a record player, and you play records on it.” Ben explained. “I saw one in the common room.”

“The only problem with that is how are we gonna get them?” Stan asked.

“We could skive pe and go to town?” Richie joked.

“Richie that’s a terrible ide-“

“IM DOWN!” Eddie shouted.

“Eds, I was joking.” Eddie’s sudden happiness was contagious, bringing a smile onto Richie’s face.

“Yeah well I’m not.” Eddie said, starting to get up.

“I guess that could work, but what about the gate?” Stan reasoned.

“It’s o-oh-o-open, I s-s-saw a truck c-come in on th-the way t-to pe.” Said Bill, shivering slightly as the door had opened when someone walked out of it. “B-But you’ll n-n-n-nuh-need to hurry b-because they’ll sh-shut it s-s-suh-s-soo-s- FUCK”

“Soon?” Stan finished for him.

“Yeah.” Bill smiled gratefully.

“Well, who’s coming with me?” Eddie asked, but didn’t really bother waiting for an answer as he dragged Richie up.

“Wait, just let me get back in my uniform first.” Richie struggled from Eddie’s grip.

“Right so you and Eddie can get records and CDs and me and Bill could get decorations.” Ben nodded.

Once Richie had finished roughly throwing his school wear back on, the four started to walk out of the changing rooms.

“Wait!” Stan stopped them. “Isn’t it a bit suspicious if you all go at once? Richie and Eddie can go first then Ben and Bill can go like five minutes after.”

“Oh yeah your right.” Ben returned to his seat in the changing rooms, followed by Bill.

“See you in a bit guys.” Richie called, and they walked out into the corridor.

“Wait if I do this, does it make me look ill or like I have a cold?” Eddie pulled a face, making Richie laugh. “Or I could just say my asthma has been playing up recently.”

“They’ll probably believe the second one, meanwhile I have no clue what my excuse is. But if anything happens, i’ll switch on my charm.” Richie pointed finger guns.

“It’ll go down in history your charm.” Eddie shook his head.

“Why thank you Ed-“

“Not for the right reason though.” He laughed.

They found their teacher and Eddie spoke up first.

“I don’t think i’ll manage pe today, Miss. My asthma has been playing up recently and I don’t dare to think what running would do to it.” Eddie acted, feeling his chest slightly. Richie was taken back at how Eddie could literally get out of anything. Almost as if he actually had a charm he could switch on just like that.

“You oughtn’t do pe today then. But, what about you? Why are you here?” She asked, looking at Richie now.

“I um.” He pretended to get cut off by a coughing fit. “As you can see, I have a cold and-“ he coughed again. “I don’t think running out in the cold will help.”

“You’re right there.” She said, almost backing away from Richie so she wouldn’t catch the ‘illness’. “You two can go to the library this period, i’ll tell Mr Hench why you’re off.”

“Mr Hench?” Richie and Eddie said in unison.

“He’s the new pe teacher in practice, not that it will affect you today. Now, off you go.” She dismissed them.

The two shared a look and ran back to get their belongings.

“Is sh-s-sh-she in a g-g-good mood?” Bill asked as soon as they burst through the door.

“Yep, plan 1-2-1-2 is officially starting.” Richie slung his back pack onto his shoulder.

“Plan 1-2-1-2? Richie what the fuck is that?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows together.

“Well, Mike’s birthday is on the 12th of the 12th month, and it sounded cooler to space the numbers out.” Richie described, leaving the rest to look at him as if he’d turned into some demonic clown.

“Mike’s still not here, I better go check on him.” Stan said, expression starting to worry, and walked out of the room.

“See you in town, we’ll probably see you, since it’s not that big.” Richie reasoned as if he were talking in his head.

“Come on weirdo, let’s go.” Eddie tugged Richie by the hand, quickly letting go of it as if he realised what he had done was illegal and the fbi were gonna shoot him there and then.

“Bye guys.” Ben called from inside.

“See you in bit!” Eddie shouted back, and with that they started heading to the gate.

About half way there, they were stopped by, and whoop Dee doo for us, Richie thought in his head, none other than the Mrs Henderson.

“What are you boys doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in lesson?” She questioned.

“Oh, so you see, we are a bit too ill for pe so we were told to go to the library.” Eddie replied, wincing at how cringy he’d just sounded.

“But the library isn’t this way, in fact you’re going in the opposite direction.” She challenged.

“Uh we-“

“Since we knew we aren’t doing pe, we thought we would just get a little bit of exercise by going the long way around, Miss.” Richie answered for Eddie, getting a grateful nod in return.

“I see,” It was obvious to a two year old that she didn’t quite believe them. “Well, exercise is over, i’ll escort you back to the library.”

“Escort us?!” Richie hissed to Eddie. In return he just shrugged and mouthed:

“We’ll think of something.”

After a couple of minutes walking in silence, they’d finally sat down in the library with a book.

“Miss Park could you keep an eye on them please?” Miss Henderson asked while walking out the door.

“Of course.” She smiled her sweet sickly smile that Richie couldn’t detest more even if he tried.

“Shit, not her again, we’ll never get out of here now.” Eddie whispered so quietly that Richie didn’t know if he had spoken or he was just hearing his own thoughts.

“I’ve got an idea.” Richie smiled. “Miss Park?”

“What?” She grunted.

“I have some revision, could I please get it out?” He smiled innocently.

“You may.” She replied flatly, not taking her eyes off him as he searched about his bag for a sheet of paper.

“I’ll write my plan on here.” Richie mouthed and pointed to the paper. Eddie nodded to show he understood.

He scribbled out his idea on to the sheet, looking at his math book every so often to make his ‘studying’ seem realistic. He then readjusted the sheet ever so slightly in Eddie’s direction. He read the plan and after a minute or so he nodded again.

“Uh, Miss?” Eddie asked.

She sighed. “Yes?”

“Please may I go to the toilet?” Miss practically rolled her eyes before agreeing, then Eddie walked out of the room.

Richie waited a couple of minutes before speaking up again. “I’ve run out of paper, may I get some from the printer next door?”

“Once the other one gets back.” Her sentence, for a reason in which Richie didn’t know, made him want to chuck her off a cliff even more.

“But miss, it’s the opposite way or the toilets.” Richie pleaded a little longer.

“Fine.” She sighed again.

“Thank you, Miss Park.” Richie apologised sarcastically and fled from the room.

Richie sped down the hallways to the boys toilets.

“There you are! What took you so long?” He found Eddie standing outside the door.

“Miss Park can go suck her mom for all I care. Her mom seemed to enjoy me so-“

“I’ve heard enough. Right, you got the money?” Eddie cut him off before it could get anymore grim. Richie pulled two almost-empty wallets out of his pockets. “Great, now lets go before the gate is shut!”

They sprinted down the hall, down some stairs, through some more halls and finally were out in the open. Tearing down the track.

“Wait!” Eddie stopped dead in front of Richie, making him almost trip over him.

“What? Eds I nearly knocked you over, a little warning next time please?” Richie was shushed.

“I hear voices.” They were quiet for a moment.

“Well this is a school, there are bound to be voices-“

“Shut up Richie. Listen.” Richie could see Eddie having a dilemma in his head whether to cover Richie’s mouth or not. “See? There.” he pointed to two delivery men, picking up some parcels from the back of the rusted lorry. “Once they walk away, we’ll run as fast as we can out of the gate, and jump into a shop. Got it?”

“Got it.” Richie said, determined now not to do his usual of messing everything he does up.

They watched the men walk out of sight and into the building. Then suddenly, they both took off, at the exact same time, down the path and through the gate. Just as they’d planned. And hopped into the closest shop they could, praying that it actually was a shop and not some random dudes house.

“Annoying how we got out of running in pe just to run around the school.” Richie laughed, still panting slightly.

“Hello there kids, would you like some of this.” Some random person came up to them, pointing at some pills he’d picked up. Richie had only now realised they walked into a pharmacy. “Or some of these maybe?”

Richie looked over to Eddie. He heard his breath pick up and his eyes darted around the room wildly.

“Uh n-no thanks.” Richie said, not taking his eyes off the now-quivering-Eddie. “Eds are you ok?” He asked in concern.

“Can’t... b-breathe.” He managed out.

“Oh I can help with that, how about an inhaler?” The man emphasised the word inhaler and it had dawned on Richie that very moment on what was going on in Eddie’s mind.

“No, actually, we were just leaving.” He grabbed Eddie’s hand and started walking out of the door. “Come on Eddie.” He said calmly.

Luckily, there was a park bench not too far away from the pharmacy, so he guided Eddie to sit down there.

“It’s ok, we’re away from there now, just take deep breaths.” He rubbed Eddie’s arm in reassurance. “Everything will be fine.”

After a few minutes, Eddie had returned to his somewhat calm composure. Although Richie noticed his leg was still bobbing up and down a little.

“Thank you, Richie. I’m sorry for what happened in there, I just...” he took another deep breath. “I just can’t help it sometimes. It just brings back the worst times of my life.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, sometimes we can’t help it. I’m just glad we got you out of there before anything turned ugly.” Richie chuckled. A few minutes more drifted past them before Eddie felt like he could get up.

“You sure?” Richie asked.

“For the fifth time Richie, yes, I’m fine now, it just happens. Now, back to the plan, let’s find a record shop. Eddie started walking more stably now, so Richie stopped asking if he was ok every two minutes. “The last time we were here I’m pretty sure I saw one just on the left here.”

And, indeed, Eddie was right, they turned a left onto the high street and found the record shop.

“What do you think Mike will like?” Eddie asked from the other side of the shop, flicking through records.

“Farm songs? Country songs?” Richie suggested jokingly. He could almost hear Eddie’s eye roll from across the room.

“Oh! What about this, Michael Jackson’s best selling album: Off the Wall.” Eddie read the album cover off.

“Do we have the money for it? Best selling album makes it sound expensive not gonna lie.” Richie doubted, flicking through CDs and picking a couple up.

“Excuse me? How much is this?” Eddie asked the shop keeper.

“20 dollars.” She said, chewing on a piece of gum. Eddie just blinked and put it right back where he found it.

“Any way of lowering the price?” Richie wondered, walking to the till.

“Look, I don’t wanna be here, I’m only doing it for the money, so I can’t change anything or i’ll be fired.” She spat.

Richie was silent for a minute or so. “So you’re into punk rock huh?”

“How did you know?” She questioned.

“Wild guess, other than the fact you’re wearing a t-shirt that literally says ‘I love punk rock’ on it.”

“What of it?” She said, filing her nails.

“Well I was just thinking, wouldn’t you be dreadfully disappointed if your friend got you a county folk record instead of punk rock? Of which you do dearly love?” Richie said grinning slightly.

“Rich What are you-“

“Shh.” Eddie was cut off.

“Well I guess, but I’d just ask them to get me another one.” She shrugged.

“But, what if your friend didn’t have enough money to get you the one you really wanted?” Richie carried on.

“I’d probably give them money to buy it then they’d owe me.”

“You’d give them money to buy it, ok, that’s interesting. It’s funny coz we’re going through that exact problem right now.” He gestured at himself and Eddie.

“And? You’re not my friend, in fact I don’t know you. So I’m not gonna lend you any of my own, hard worked for, money.” She shrugged Richie off.

Eddie snorted. “Hard worked for money, she’s not fooling anybody.” He whispered quietly.

“Well,” Richie leaned in to read her name tag. “Josephine, my names Richie. You like punk rock, I like punk rock. There, we have something in common, therefore we are friends now. So how would you feel about lending us some money to buy our friend the gift he’d really love? We promise to pay you back.”

“We don’t even know if he likes it.” Eddie commented again, we was shushed.

She was silent for a bit before speaking up. “Fine, But if you don’t pay me back within three weeks, i’ll snitch on you.”

“What do you mean snitch on us?” Eddie spoke loudly for the first time.

“I’ll call Whitemore school and let them know Richie and his friend were skiving a lesson on December first.” She smiled.

“Fine, we’ll pay you back within three weeks. Oh but there are a couple of cds we’d like to buy, with our money.” Richie added, returning the smile.

They left the store and went to sit back down on another park bench.

“I was wrong about your charm Richie.” Eddie laughed, still shocked at what he’d just witnessed.

“What can I say? Women love me.” Richie smirked triumphantly.

“And a boy”

“Not sure about that.” Eddie shook his head. “But you did well.”

“Why thank you Eds.” Richie bowed before him.

“Stop calling me Eds! I’ve never liked it and never will.” Eddie said, although Richie noticed that it had possibly stopped bothering him so much now.

“Never say never, Eds, never say never.” Richie said with an awful British accent.

“Well, we should be heading back, or we will be caught for sure.” Eddie started shifting in his seat when Richie stopped him.

“Let’s just sit for a while. We won’t have freedom like this for a while.” Richie didn’t really know quite what he meant when he said this, neither did Eddie, but he knew well enough.

 

**Ben Hanscom, Whitemore’s entrance**

“Be quick, okay? Then we can leave through the back gate.”

Bill nodded and dropped his bag next to Ben’s. They were near the entrance of the school and decided to drop their bags off under the staircase, not wanting to carry anything unnecessary into town.

Both Ben and Bill had gotten an sick pass a few minutes after Richie and Eddie had. Stan had said it would be too obvious if the four went at the same time and Ben had to agree; going into town without permission was risky enough and he was not willing to get caught.

“Any i-ideas about w-what you wa-want to get?” Bill asked.

Ben shrugged and pushed the entrance door open. “Not really. Maybe banners or something? I just hope we don’t get caught-“

“Don’t s-s-stress it.” Bill said easily as they both stepped out into the early December day.

It was getting colder each day, and today was the first morning of December. Only twelve days until Mike’s birthday, Ben reminded himself.

Back at his old home, him and his Mum would put up the limited decorations they had up on the first of December. His Mum would play her favourite Christmas albums and her and Ben would sing along while dousing the tree in tinsel. It was debatably better than Christmas because of how stress free everything was. Ben’s Mum was hardly stress free.

But it was his first Christmas away from home, and away from his Mum. Ben didn’t mind as much as he thought he probably should of. He loved his Mum to pieces sure, but maybe it would be nice to change the Christmas tradition. Besides, the Losers were basically family to him now, and families spend Christmas together.

“Think w-we’ll be c-c-caught?” Bill asked, coming to a stop by the open gate.

“Not if we’re fast.” Ben replied, the giddiness of what they were about to do sinking in. “We’ll run out and head straight down to the town.”

Bill nodded and they crept to the edge of the gate. A few workers carried boxes to the other side (Ben assumed they had food in). They disappeared round the school and Ben saw the perfect opportunity.

“Now!” Ben whispered loudly, and him and Bill charged out of the gate.

The two ran through the pine trees fast as they could, laughing without a care for who would hear them.

Despite being chilly, the sun was bright and cascading through the high branches. The town was close now, and Ben skidded to a halt.

“Stop!” He cried. “Stop else you’ll faint Bill!”

Bill did stop, and leant against a tree. The two caught their breath, still laughing now and then.

“C-c-can’t p.e be this f-fun?” Bill asked, slowly standing up straight again.

“P.e, my dear friend, is torture, and this won’t cut the pain test.” Ben replied, and Bill snickered.

“Well, lets go before this period ends.” Ben said after they’d both successfully caught their breath.

The two entered the town. It wasn’t that busy, a few shoppers wrapped up in coats and scarves and hats.

Ben wrapped his arms around himself, glad he wasn’t in his p.e kit. Him and Bill were both wearing simple coats, covering their Whitemore uniform to avoid being spotted. Ben just hoped no awkwardness questions were asked.

“T-t-think anyone will r-recognise us?” Bill asked as him and Ben rounded a corner.

“Hope not.” Ben said. “Hey, maybe we’ll run into Richie and Eddie!”

“M-maybe.” Bill agreed. “But t-they’ll be a-a-absolutely fine b-by themselves.”

“True that.” Ben said.

After a few peaceful minutes of wandering around the town centre, Bill spotted a hopeful looking shop. It was small, with a thatched roof and large windows.

“You think they’ll sell decorations?” Ben asked.

“Let’s f-find out.”

They both stepped inside. A small bell tinkled and Ben was once again reminded about how risky this was.

“Don’t make eye contact.” Ben hissed, and Bill nodded.

The shop was pretty full, which made it easier to not be singled out by the workers. Both tried to blend in, sneaking around corners in a way that Ben felt sure would look stupid if they re watched it on tape.

After a few minutes of looking around and only talking in hushed tones, Ben spotted something.

It was a table covered with an array of colourful things, and Ben could immediately spot some gold looking bunting.

“There’s bound to be something we can use here!” Ben whispered excitedly to Bill.

Bill breathed loudly through his nose and they both smiled at each other.

Ben thought that Mike probably felt ignored by them constantly talking without him and despite knowing it was all for the greater good, Ben felt bad.

He had been in that place before; you have no one to talk to, to share moments with. Nothing. It was like watching the world from the outside, through a window. And Ben was never going back to that.

But for Mike? It was much harder. And Ben realised it now, they had been tactless. They’d been pushing Mike away while they were trying to plan something nice for him.

In the end it would all be worth it, Ben knew, but it wasn’t the end yet.

When they next saw Mike, Ben would make sure he’d be friendly, if anything to reassure Mike he hadn’t done anything wrong. Because being lonely was one of the worst things ever.

Ben sighed and tried to focus on much more positive things. Like the colour balloon Mike would want at his party.

“Green is t-t-too much of a n-no.” Bill said after a few minutes of debating, and Ben pursed his lips.

“Red balloons.” He said. “And that’s final.”

They chose a pack of balloons and some bunting. Both Ben and Bill had money, and Ben hoped it wouldn’t cost more than they had on them.

“Five dollars (?).” The man at the till said and Ben let out a sigh of relief.

He opened his wallet and handed out a fiver, before thanking the man and leaving quickly, still not wanting to get spotted.

“W-we good?” Bill asked when they were outside.

“Yeah.” Ben said, smile forming on his face. “Yeah, we are.”

The two headed back to Whitemore, talking occasionally when they wanted to. And as Ben walked, he couldn’t help but agree even more with Bill.

Everything was good.

Whitemore included.

 

**Mike Hanlon, dreading his Physics lesson**

Out of all the things the world could offer him, Mike thought physics was the most useless. For starters, he didn’t understand any of it. It all fuzzed up in his brain and he’d have to go back and re read every other paragraph. And it was probably the most boring way to spend an entire hour.

The only plus side of Physics class was that he shared a table with the rest of the losers club. But recently that didn’t seem to help.

Mike didn’t know what had happened but the chemistry between them had shifted. The six still acted fine around each other but with him it was very different. They hardly spoke to him anymore, and shared looks when they did. It made Mike feel like they were sharing some sort of secret they didn’t want Mike in on, and Mike thought maybe they didn’t want him in their small friendship group anymore.

But it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? Mike hadn’t had friends before this and thought there was probably a reason for that. Maybe the losers had just gotten sick of him. It made sense. Mike saw himself as someone you wouldn’t actually want to be friends with, so was the losers leaving him actually their fault or his?

Despite all this, Mike sat down at their table with an open mind. Maybe he was just overthinking, like he did sometimes. Who’s to say, it could be nothing.

“If we have another lesson just copying notes I may jump out of that window.” Richie said.

Mike laughed and dragged his seat out, sitting down on it. Their teacher was writing the date on the board and Mike could already sense another boring hour coming on.

“I don’t get any of this.” Eddie said from Mike’s right. “It’s like it goes in one ear and out the other.”

“G-get another s-s-sick pass.” Bill said absent-mindfully.

Eddie sighed and leaned back on his chair, but Bill’s words for Mike thinking. Eddie, Richie, Bill and Ben were all missing in p.e. Stan had said they weren’t feeling well but they were all fine at lunch which confused Mike. He could understand wanting to get out of p.e but why did Stan lie about it? That wasn’t like Stan at all.

“Where were you in p.e anyway?” Mike deadpanned, not even thinking over what he said.

Ben coughed awkwardly and Richie bit the inside of his cheek.

“Oh.” Eddie said. “I was uh-“

“Sick.” Stan said. His cheeks had turned a crimson colour.

“Sick? Really?” Mike asked. Eddie glanced at Stan and nodded.

“It’s c-c-c-cold s-season.” Bill said, avoiding Mike’s eyes.

This was exactly what Mike was scared off. He thought his luck was too good to be true; six friends who all cared about him. But it was becoming clearer and clearer that something was going on and Mike just wished it could end quicker. The more this dragged out the worse it got.

“Listen okay.” Mike said, knowing what he had to say. “I understand if you guys like don’t want to be my friend anymore or something. But instead of lying about it, you could of just...said.”

“Mike-“ Bev said but Mike didn’t want to hear it.

“Look I get it, you’re sick of me. But instead of playing me like this just say! Okay, just drop me! I’m done with all of you pretending I’m not here so just stop.”

Their table went silent. Mike opened his mouth and then shut it immediately.

“I-“ He started, this time completely unaware of what he was supposed to say.

“Mike, what’s wrong?” Their teacher asked, pausing from writing their title.

“I uh...” Mike said, not wanting all the attention the class was giving him. “I don’t feel well. At all.”

Their teacher sighed. “Get yourself to the sick bay then.”

Mike nodded and all but bolted from the room, careful not to look back.

As soon as he shut the door the tears fell. He didn’t even know if he was crying in anger or saddens or confusion but he knew he was crying.

He’d done it now. They were truly gone. Just when he had friends.

But had he?

Mike shook his head and started off for the sick bay, desperate to lie down if anything. Things may not make sense now but at least he could have a rest from the craziness of everything for now.

Matron was at the door when he arrived, marking off her clipboard.

“Why Mike.” She said almost cheerfully. “What are you doing here? Dare I say someone’s come to help me.”

Mike laughed best he could. “I felt sick so I left class.”

Matron tilted her head. “Don’t look sick.” She commented gruffly. “Still, believe the patient I guess. Sit down.”

Mike wound his way to a chair and sat down. The sick bay was a large room with tall, victorian style windows. There were a series of white beds, colourings matching the walls. On the end was a large fireplace.

No one was in the room apart from him and Matron and Mike was grateful for it. It gave him space to think the last tenminutes over.

Yes, he didn’t think his friends would last long, but that was because he saw himself as very unlikable. It hadn’t even entered his mind that his friends would be the ones who’d be in the wrong. But the more he thought about it the more confused he got. He hadn’t done anything that could of upset them in anyway, yet they were ignoring him like they had.

Mike let out a frustrated sigh and fell back in his chair.

“Hard day?” Matron asked, searching through a pile of paper.

“Could say that.” Mike mumbled.

Matron scribbled something down then made her way around the room, checking each bed promptly.

“So, you want to talk about it?” She asked when she was close to him.

Mike shifted in his chair so he could see Matron.

“I mean, I’m here to help aren’t I? Might as well listen to you.”

Mike sniffed. “I’m sick.” He said definitely.

Matron raises a single eyebrow and Mike coughed for effect.

“I’ve been in my position for longer than you’ve been alive.” She said. “I can tell when something’s bothering someone.”

Mike bit the inside of his cheek. On one hand, telling Matron meant she’d know all of the losers going ons. On the other hand, Matron was all Mike had right now, sad as it was. And he wouldn’t have to tell her everything...

“It’s just my friends.” He said. “They’ve been acting differently.”

“How so?” Matron asked, bending over and making the bed close to Mike.

“Well, they’ve been acting differently to me. Like, keeping me out of things or whatever. Excluding me.”

Matron smoothed the covers out and sighed. “Friendships are weird things.” She said. “Sometimes you have good friends, other times you have bad friends. Other times, they seem like one thing but actually the other.”

Mike laid has arm over his eyes. “I wouldn’t know. Never had friends before this.”

“Ah.” Matron said. “Why do you think that is?”

“Don’t know.” Mike grumbled. “Because I’m unlikable, probably.”

“Sure about that?” Matron’s voice was very loud and stern.

“Well, why else wouldn’t I?” Mike asked, leaning so he could see her under his arm.

“Mike.” Matron said, leaned against the bed railings. “You seem to have low self esteem.”

Mike raised his eyebrows at how blunt she was.

“I mean, I don’t know much about you.” Matron said, continuing to make the bed now. “But you seem like a very sweet boy. And if you had friends within your first week, you can’t be as unlikable as you say you are.”

Mike considered this for a moment. Work on the farm did take a lot of his time up but surely he could of made friends if he was less... less him.

“It’s just confusing.” Mike said. “I mean, I didn’t think they’d want to be my friend anyway but now they’ve left I’m just wondering if it’s anything in particular I’ve done or just... me.”

“Was this sudden?” Matron asked.

Mike thought back to the last few days. Yes, it had been sudden. They were fine mid November, because they’d gone to the town that day. It was after that when they’d grown apart. Very apart. And even though a part of Mike had expected them to leave, he was shocked about Stan.

He loved them all, he still did, but Stan was the always the one who was there for Mike. He was the one who’d check on Mike, ask if he was okay, cheer him up. So why was Stan the one ignoring him the most? And even if Mike hated to admit it, he missed Stan. It just wasn’t the same without him.

“Yes, very sudden.” Mike answered.

“I’m not trained to fix friendship, though goodness knows I do it every other week.” Matron said. “But maybe you and your friends are going through something. By the sounds of it, you all need some space to figure everything out. And there’s nothing wrong with being confused.”

“So what do you think I should do?” Mike asked.

“You need time.” Matron said. “You can’t love other people if you don’t love yourself.”

Mike guessed she was right. Even though he probably would never love himself as much as he should, he could learn to not hate himself, right? Not blame everything on himself.

“Yeah.” Mike decided. “I’ll give myself time.”

Matron smiled then stood up straight. “Now this fire won’t light itself.”

Mike got up too, seeing if he could help in anyway. And as he lit the fireplace and helped organise Matron’s files he couldn’t help but feel better. Maybe he could learn to love himself. Maybe they’d be friends again.

Just maybe.

 

**Stan Uris, North and East common room**

“How do you inverse an unknown number?” Bev asked.

“Dunno.” Richie replied, making a paper airplane instead of completing his Math homework.

The six of the losers (Mike hadn’t returned from the sick bay) had all agreed to do their Math, instead of putting it off again. They’d all made something that resembled a fort in the common room near the radiator. A large blanket was pulled from the wall to the sofa, and a mass of cushions were jumbled up inside.

The six had been laying around in it for twenty minutes now, still puzzling over their homework.

Well, not all.

“Done.” Stan said, dropping his sheet on the beige pillow infront of him.

“You’re k-k-kidding.” Bill said. “Say y-your k-k-kidding.”

Both Eddie and Richie made a grab for it, but Ben got to it first. He scanned it quickly and then sighed.

“I got 23 for the second question, not 21.” He said, bending down to scribble something out. By now, it was common knowledge that Ben was smart. He got the highest grades out of the seven of them and hardly tried most of the time. Stan would have envied him if he didn’t love him.

“How-“ Eddie said. “Is this even in English?”

Bev turned he sheet around.

“You have to reverse the formula.” Ben said.

“Funny.” Eddie comment. “You talk about it like it’s simple.”

Stan snorted and Ben was about to say something when the door swung open and Mike walked in.

He looked way happier than he had in Physics, Stan noted with relief. Instead of the sad droop his eyes sometimes got, they were bright. Until Mike saw them.

“Hey, Mike-.” Stan began, climbing out of the fort and hurrying over to him.

Mike had begun to walk swiftly to the other end of the room and Stan hadn’t even realised Mike could speed walk so fast.

“Mike!” Stan said, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder to slow him down.

Mike turned around, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Listen, about Physics-“ Stan started, not sure what he was about to say but knowing he had to say something.

“It’s okay.” Mike said. “I get it, I do. We all rushed into everything without thinking so... I get it.”

“What?” Stan asked, totally confused.

“The Losers Club.” Mike said. “You didn’t want me in it anymore and I understand. At the end of the day we’re all just seven teenagers, right? We’re bound to be confused.”

Stan didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. “No Mike that’s not it I swear.”

“That what is it?”

Stan opened his mouth and closed it because what could he say? They were planning a party for Mike and he couldn’t say that. So what could he tell him? It didn’t add up because they were meant to be doing something nice but Mike just looked hurt, even under his Don’t-Worry-I-Understand attitude. And Mike had said that he didn’t want a fuss. But what if this was too much of a fuss? What if Mike still hated them after the party? After everything? What if all this was a giant mistake?

“Stan?” Mike asked quietly, but all Stan could see was how the curtains weren’t drawn evenly and how the floor had a weird sticky mark on it and the sofas were squashed weirdly.

“I-“ Stan began but then felt something inside him crack. He ran out of the room not unlike Mike did earlier, rounding the corner out side and sliding down the wall.

He hadn’t felt like this since his old school.

He drew his knees up and buried his face in them, so he didn’t have to see how uneven and unperfect the hall was.

“Stan!” Mike’s voice called, and Stan’s head snapped up.

Mike was standing close to him, looking worried.

“Are you okay?” Mike asked, and if Stan didn’t feel like the floor was about to snap in two he wouldn’t of thought how normal this felt.

“I uh, I was just overthinking.” Stan managed to croak.

Mike nodded solemnly and sat down next to Stan. They didn’t say anything and Stan thought that if the had been a bit kinder, a bit less stupid Mike could be in the fort right now, laughing with them, being totally confused over the homework, not upset with him.

But he was out here next to Stan.

“So.” Mike said. “Do you want to talk about it...”

Stan shook his head. “No.” He said definitely.

“Okay.” Mike said simply, showing he understood.

Another minute of silence ticked by and Stan felt like he had to say something before he exploded.

“That’s not what we were doing.” He blurted out.

“Huh?” Mike asked.

“Trying to kick you out of the Losers Club.” Stan said. “We weren’t trying to do that.”

Mike pursed his lips and nodded slowly.

“And I’m so so so sorry Mike.” Stan continued. “I understand we made you feel that way but we didn’t mean to.”

Mike opened his mouth, closed it then opened it again. “I think we need time.”

“Time?”

“Yeah.” Mike said. “I need time away from you and you need time away from me. So we can figure everything out.”

“Oh.” Stan said. “Do you want time?”

“Yeah.” Mike said, though his eyes said something different.

“Then we’ll have break from each other.” Stan said. “Not long but if you need space then... yeah.”

“Yeah”. Mike said, giving Stan a smile and getting up.

But as Mike walked away Stan thought how much he wanted Mike back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> skksksks not much to say but once again we hope you enjoyed!!


	11. Lost & Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last minute planning and alottt of friendships in this (and some cute reddie hehe)

**Ben Hanscom, North and East’s common room**

“Final preparations now I guess.” Stan said, almost buzzing, as if he had too many coffees before sleeping.

“I’m sure Mike will love it.” Ben walked over to Stan, reassuring him.

“That is if he actually agrees, he said he wanted a break or something didn’t he?” Richie said, slouched in the couch.

“Shut up Richie.” Eddie hissed.

“What? I’m just speaking reality.” Richie defended.

“He will come, don’t worry Stan.” Bev widened her eyes at Richie, indicating him to shut up. “Now, what’s left to do?”

“Entertainment? Done, decor? Pretty much, uhh” Stan ticked off a mental checklist to himself.

“Well, while your figuring it out, I’m gonna see if I can smuggle any canteen food into the common room.” Richie started getting up but Eddie dragged him back down.

“Oh yeah! Food! How the hell are we supposed to get food?!” Stan’s stress level had evidently shot up.

“W-W-we could s-sm-s-smuggle some i-in like Richie s-s-said.” Bill suggested.

“Yeah, and if we get caught?” Richie folded his arms.

“What is up with you today? Mr Negative.” Bev asked.

“Couldn’t sleep last night.” Was all Richie answered with. When Richie was in this mood, it was better not to question anything, Ben had learnt.

“Ok so what food and drink should we get? I saw some ginger beer and apple tart sitting on the side yesterday so it’s probably in the fridge now.” Ben said, thinking back to yesterday when he wanted to scoff all the tart there and then.

“Well h-h-How are we su-s-supposed to g-get it?” Bill asked.

“You’ll figure it out.” Stan carried on ticking his mental check list off.

“W-Wait what! I have t-t-to go? I’m ab-a-about as sneaky as a d-dr-drunken elephant!” Bill looked almost horrified.

“It’s fine, right. You and Ben go get some food. I’ll think of what else to do while your there.” Stan said, not leaving any more room for Ben or Bill to ask questions.

“I guess we are going now then.” Ben laughed slightly and tried dragging Bill out of his seat.

“D-do I have to c-c-come?” He groaned.

“Come on do it for Mike.” Ben rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Fine.” Bill got up and Ben smiled to himself.

“Well, see you in a bit guys.” Ben called and with that, the two walked out fo the room and into the corridor. “Right, How are we gonna do this.”

“Well, w-w-we could just w-wa-Wait until the c-cuh-cooks leave.” Bill said blatantly.

“They’re the cooks they’re not gonna leave.” Ben started to lower his voice as they got closer to the canteen.

“Well th-th-the only other o-oh-option is sneaking i-in.” Bill sighed.

“Yes but how?”

“Well,” Bill looked around the canteen. “W-we could s-sn-s-sneak through the b-back door of th-the kitchen, I s-saw one th-the other d-day and g-g-g-guessed that’s wh-What it was. Th-the door that i-i-is.”

“Good idea, where is it.” Ben asked.

Bill ushered Ben to follow him, but put a finger over his mouth to tell Ben to be quiet. “This way.” He whispered.

Bill guided Ben back outside in the cold, sleeting air and round the corner, where they found a metal door.

“I d-d-don’t know h-how we g-g-guh-get in though.” Bill shook his head. Ben walked forward, examining the door.

“It looks like we need a key or something, I don’t know where we are gonna get a key fro-“ Ben was cut off by the sound of voices getting closer to the door.

“Mary? Can you open this door for me? I’m holding a tray and don’t have any free hands.” The voice said. Ben and Bill shared a look and sped off back around the corner they’d just turned. Ben heard some sort of clicking sound and the door opened.

“Thanks.” The voice was clearer now it wasn’t muffled by the steel door.

“I th-th-think she’s go-going the o-o-oth-other way.” Bill whispered as they heard the foot steps shuffle away from then.

Ben peeked around the corner and saw the door just on the verge of snapping back shut.

“Quick!” He didn’t even need to explain his plan to Bill, they both evidently had the same sort of idea. They flew to the door, grabbing the handle and yanking it back open as far as they could.

“Should I stay or should I go now, if I go there will be trouble.” The other voice sang quietly. Ben hauled Bill back to just behind the door before they blew there cover. “If I stay there will be double.”

“Ok,” Ben whispered, “She’ll probably go soon so we’ll sneak in then.”

“A-a-and if she d-doesn’t?”

“We carry out plan B.” Ben said determinedly.

“Th-there’s a p-p-pl-plan B?” Bill hissed.

“Just go with it.”

The woman carried on washing up a few more dishes before heading into the hall to wipe the tables.

Ben pointed to the fridge and nodded. “In there.” Bill nodded back and practically crawled to the slightly rusted fridge. Ben had to stifle a giggle.

Bill stood up at his normal height and opened the fridge as quietly as he could. Although to Ben it did sound a bit like an earthquake attempting to be quiet. Bill spotted something in the fridge and dragged out a box of ginger beers. He soon returned and Ben gave him a thumbs up.

“Was there any tart in there?” He asked, still talking quietly.

“I saw s-s-some sausage r-rolls, b-b-But I th-think that W-would be ta-t-taking the m-mick a bit.” Bill chuckled. “A-and no, I d-d-didn’t.”

Ben scanned the room, looking for any appropriate space you would store a pie or tart. 

“I’ll check the cupboard.” Ben whispered, half to himself. He got up slowly, keeping watch of any sign the cleaner would look over. He crouched and walked over to a close by cupboard. He chucked a couple dozen chocolate and breakfast bars at Bill but this was not what Ben was looking for. Great.

Ben stood up more straight and spotted what he’d been searching for. But the only problem was, it was in plain sight of her.

Ben debated in his head for a few seconds or so and decided to just fuck it and hope for the best. He crawled just as Bill had and built up the courage to stand up a little more straight.

A sudden sharp noice came ringing through the room and Ben couldn’t have gotten to the ground any quicker.

“Bless me, ugh. Why did I choose this job.” The girl said an carried on sweeping the floor.

Ben let out a huge sigh of relief and started to get up again. He looked over to Bill, who was now watching intently and gave Ben a reassuring nod.

Don’t mess up now. Ben told himself. And with one stretch of glory, he reached out for the tart and pulled it back down with him successfully.

Crawling after it, he slid the apple tart to Bill’s direction.

“Well d-done, now l-lets go!” Bill smiled brightly and turned to head out of the door when he realised it had locked behind him. “Shit.”

“Why on earth would you need a key on the inside of a door?” Ben shook his head in annoyance and tried pushing on the door.

“It’s n-n-no use, we’ll h-have to get th-th-the key so-som-s-some-somehow.” Bill said, scratching the back of his neck.

“This lanyard really does itch. Why do they make these so uncomfortable?” The girls voice grew louder as she came the boys’ way.

“Behind this counter!” Ben hissed almost too loudly and they threw themselves behind it.

She placed her lanyard on the counter, next to the one Ben and bill where hiding behind, and walked back into the main hall.

“It’s l-like she kn-kn-knew.” Bill shook his head. Ben made a grab for it when another clicking noise came from behind them.

“The fuck.” Ben whispered in frustration, drastically throwing himself in the nearest empty cupboard he could find.

“Mary? Would you mind coming to a quick staff meeting, it’ll only take a couple of minutes.” Another member of staff came to the door.

“Sure, just give me two minutes to pack this equipment away.” Mary called back. The member of staff nodded and turned to walk back out of the door. Bill grabbed it just before it shut.

“Which way did she go?” Ben said, crawling out of his hiding space.

“Uhh,” Bill took a short look around the door. “The opposite w-w-way t-to we wanna g-g-go.”

“Ok right, i’ll hold the tart and chocolate bars, you hold the box of ginger.” Ben picked up the box and handed it to Bill. He picked up beyond their hiding space. “All clear, Now go go go.”

They heaved them selves out the door and shut it as quietly as they could behind them. Once they were outside and safe, Ben felt he could finally breathe again.

“G-g-guess i’ll n-never get t-t-to See plan B.” Bill chuckled.

“Never say never. Who knows, we might need it tonight.” Bill grinned. “Speaking of tonight, do You think we have enough food?”

“B-Ben you ch-ch-chucked like th-th-thirty cho-c-ch-choc-ch-chocolate bars a-at me.” Bill picked up a handful of bars.

“Then I guess we should get back then. Stan will be stressing like anything if we don’t return soon.” Ben got up, dragging the food items with him.

They started walking back to their common room with smiles on their faces.

“Hey, I’m pretty proud of us.” Ben said cheerfully.

“Me t-too we make a g-g-good team.” Bill smiled back. Bill was right, if it had just been Ben, he knew he would’ve never gotten all those things without being caught.

And it’s not just that, he’d made a great friend in Bill, and if he ever lost him, Ben felt like he would lose some of himself too.

 

**Beverly Marsh, about to leave the common room**

“I’ll be back in a minute guys.” Bev spoke up out of the contently quiet common room. A few nodded and continued to do whatever they were doing before.

Bev wandered around the corridors for a bit, just trying to put her mind at ease. Had they messed everything up? Could they actually get Mike back? All questions which couldn’t be spoken aloud popped into her head.

Bev came to a window and stared out fo it for a minute or so, looking at the surroundings of Whitemore. She looked over and out of Whitemore, the chimneys which were smoking to the dozen, keeping the house warm and nice inside.

And that’s when it came to her. Bev snuck off to her dormitory and rummaged through her bed side table, she was certain she stuffed a pack of cigarettes in it on the first day. She was also slightly puzzled as to why she hadn’t needed to use one since.

Once she found a half ripped half empty pack, she stuffed them into her back pocket. Bev wasn’t addicted to cigarettes, well not anymore, it was just her way of getting rid of everything. Of all feeling so she could start fresh again. It’s like when she breathed the smoke out of her mouth, all her troubles went away with it.

She walked down to the back door and stepped out of it, wishing she put a coat on because she’d forgotten how cold winter actually was. But that was the least of her worries.

What if this was all her fault? She was the one who encouraged the idea of a sleepover, and it seemed all well and good until they unintentionally started pushing him away.

What if it was her fault everything was starting to go wrong? Who was she kidding, she wasn’t tough or brave, she didn’t even know much about having friends. Bev would even call herself a fraud, because she, too, was kidding herself. Inside she was just a thin slice of ice that could be shattered any minute. Then who’d like her? Nobody. But to Bev, that’s what she deserves.

What if-

“Mind if I join you?” Richie cut off Beverly’s train of thought. She nodded, barely taking a look at him.

“So, everything’s sort of getting to you now huh?” Richie held his hand out for Bev to give him a cigarette.

“How did you know I would be here?” She croaked.

“It’s the place I’d go to have a cigarette. It’s quiet and nobody can see you.” He replied, breathing out smoke.

Beverly sighed. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. Everything was going fine.” She was silent for a minute or so. “What if it was all my fault?”

“Why would it be your fault?” Richie questioned.

“I don’t know, everything usually is.” She looked down to her shoes, hating that she gave into sadness so easily.

“Well really, we are all to blame. We are the reason Mike felt left out.” He shook his head, squinting upwards, letting the snow fall gently on his face.

“I don’t know how some people do it.” Bev said after a while.

“Do what?”

“Stay so strong, even if something really bad happens, how they just pick themselves up and carry on.” She let the cigarette hang from her fingertips.

“The thing is, you don’t have to be strong 24/7. You have to face the bad times, because otherwise no good will come out of it.” Richie said thoughtfully.

“Well I’ve endured bad times my whole life, so why hasn’t anything good come out of it yet?” Bev’s voice cracked slightly.

“We are young, we have a whole life a head of us. It’s just biding it’s time.” Richie reassured.

Bev met Richie’s eyes for the first time. “You think?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Bev was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Before my mum died, she’d told me to always be brave, and to fight through what ever obstacles come my way. I always wanted to be like her. She wouldn’t be frightened of anything or anyone. She was always the one to tell someone everything was gonna be ok. She was always so proud of me, for every little thing I did.

“She wouldn’t be proud of me now. All vulnerable, smoking outside in the cold air.” Bev then whispered so quietly that she barely heard her herself, “I’m so sorry mom.”

“Why wouldn’t she be proud of you? Look how far you’ve come, look how brave you’ve been here. I may not know you impeccably well yet, Bev Marsh, but you are one of, if not the strongest person I know. I would never have the balls to do anything you have done.” Richie smiled. “You are Bev Marsh, and you should be proud of that.”

Bev drew in a deep breath and smiled back. “Well well well. Richie Tozier, how long have you gone without swearing?” She laughed.

“Way too fucking long.” Richie breathed in his cigarette and let the smoke pile out.

“But seriously, Thank you Richie, I needed that. Without you here I would be a crumbling mess out here.” Bev laughed away the tear that was on the verge of trailing down her cheek.

“I did my best. Coming back now?” Richie stamped his used cigarette on the snowing ground, standing up now.

Bev repeated this motion. “Sure.” She followed after him.

Bev now knew exactly why she hadn’t needed a cigarette since she got to Whitemore. She never really knew why she hadn’t realised before.

Because she had the best friends you could ever ask for, and she was determined she will get Mike back to the Losers Club.

 

**Stan Uris, next to a (rather large) window in North Tower**

Stan had decided he was the absolute worst person in the entire world.

He was a complete control freak, he couldn’t take or make a joke and he’d lost Mike. Mike Hanlon. Mike Hanlon who was like the glue to their group. Gone because of fucking Stan Uris.

“Bullshit.” Stan muttered, breath fogging up the window he was perched next to.

It was lunch time, and the rest of Whitemore was probably in the dinning all, eating without a single worry. Well Stan was worrying.

Actually, worrying was an understatement. Stan felt like his head was about to explode like a cork on a bottle. Everything had to be prefect for Mike’s party. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. North and East had been preparing all morning and had all told Stan it was going to be great. But how could Stan know for sure it would run smooth?

He let out a loud sigh and rested his head against the glass pain. Snow was falling outside.

“Are y-y-you okay?” A familiar voice asked.

“Just thinking about how fun free falling from this window would be.” Stan answered.

Bill slid down so they were opposite each other and gently pressed his palms to the window.

“Christmas i-is really p-p-pretty at w-w-w-white-whitemore.” He said, sparkle in his eyes.

“Mmm.” Stan mumbled, distantly wishing he’d put a jumper on. The drafts at Whitemore were pretty bad in the window, especially up in North tower.

“So.” Bill said, dragging his eyes away from the view. “Why a-are you a-a-actually h-here?”

Stan wrapped his arms around him. “At Whitemore or up at the top of North tower?”

Bill spread his fingers out. “North t-t-tower.”

“Didn’t think anyone would be up here.” Stan said. “Needed a break.”

“B-b-because o-of Mike? Bill asked quietly.

“Yes.” Stan said, seeing no point in lying with the mood he was in.

He almost felt like he was floating, and just watching himself in third person. He was there but not completely. Just listening to everything but saying nothing. Like all the colour had just dripped out of the world.

Like everything had just lost its point.

Bill began to draw a star on the steamed up window. His slim figures carefully traced the five points. He finished and wiped it away with the palm of his hand.

“Wanna t-talk?” He asked, pulling his jumper over his thumbs.

Stan shrugged, wishing he could feel happy.

Bill sniffed and looked out the window. The snow was getting heavier now, and Stan guessed the lawns would be covered by tomorrow morning.

There was a faint cheer downstairs. Stan pressed his cheek against the window, desperate to feel the cold on his face. Desperate to feel something.

“When ju-ju-ju-georgie first w-went m-m-missing, I t-thought I’d n-n-never be h-h-happy again.” Bill said, still looking outside the window.

Stan flashed his eyes over to him, not sure what to say. He didn’t want to treat Bill like glass that could smash at any minute, especially considering he knew how strong Bill really was, but he also didn’t want to hurt Bill by saying the wrong thing. Stan realised he had a tendency to do that.

“Y-y-yeah.” Bill said, looking at Stan now. “It was l-like a e-e-empty void kind o-of took o-o-over my life. Everywhere w-was the s-s-same thing, s-same day on r-r-repeat.

“I didn’t t-think I could be h-h-happy again because, how c-could I? I’d lost ju-ju-ju-ju-georgie. And e-every time I saw someone l-l-laughed I’d ask m-myself, how can they be so happy when ju-ju-georgie could be d-dead?”

“How can people live their lives when yours feels like it’s pointless.” Stan said. Bill nodded.

“Everything l-lost it’s point. I thought m-m-moving on would mean I d-didn’t care about h-him. And f-for a while I actually b-believed it. I ate less, d-didn’t do anything much. All I could t-think about was what w-would of happened i-if I didn’t make that d-d-damm boat.”

Bill sighed. “But s-soon I realised that it didn’t make a difference. Ju-ju-ju-ju-georgie was g-gone and I wished he wasn’t, but smiling wasn’t going to determine that.

“Crying wasn’t going to make the pain better like laughing wasn’t going to make the pain worse. You can’t put your life on hold because of something. You can’t live the rest of your life regretting something over and over again, because thinking about it isn’t going to change anything.”

Bill looked at Stan. “Better days will come.”

“Better days will come.” Stan repeated.

Bill smiled at him and Stan thought that maybe Bill was just as selfless as he was strong.

Stan shifted so his knees were pulled up.

“You didn’t-“

“S-stutter.” Bill said. “I k-k-know.”

Stan smiled this time and it felt good. Not forced but natural.

They fell into silence again, both looking at the falling snow, deep in thought.

Bill was right, of course he was. Stan couldn’t sit at the top of North tower just waiting for Mike. It wasn’t going to change anything. And if all went well, Mike would hopefully enjoy his party tonight.

Stan was about to say how peaceful the snow looked when there was a loud thud.

Both boys jumped and looked in the direction of the noise; down the stairs.

“W-what was t-t-that?” Bill asked, leaning off the ledge slightly to try and see.

“Oh, well done!” Someone hissed from down the stairs.

“So-rry!” Another said.

Stan and Bill looked at each other in alarm. All in all, Stan didn’t actually know if he was meant to be this far up the tower, considering his dorm was at the bottom. And from a Top Years point of view, he supposed he would look suspicious if two first years were randomly at a window.

“Come on.” Stan whispered to Bill, grabbing his arm and leading his up the stairs and around the side of the Top Years’ common room.

The stairs ended there. There was only a trapdoor on the ceiling which Stan assumed was box space. Apart from that, it was a dead end.

“What if t-t-they c-come here?” Bill asked quietly.

“Better hope they don’t.” Stan replied, craning his neck around the wall.

The voices continued but they were now too quiet to understand.

“Think it’s North students?” Stan asked.

“M-maybe.” Bill said. The voices were slowly getting louder and Stan could make them out now.

“Everyone’s at lunch, those East and North assholes aren’t gonna see us.” A girl said.

“Yeah, well we can’t be too careful.” A lower voice said.

There were more footsteps and Stan and Bill ducked out of sight.

“South and W-w-west!” Bill hissed angrily. “I m-mean-“

Stan nudged Bill to get him to shut up. They could listen to whatever plan they were coming up with, or whatever reason they were on North’s tower.

“Hold on!” On of the voices said, and Stan was surprised to hear how close it sounded. “If they’re at lunch then the Top Formers will be too.”

“Aw crap!” Someone else said.

“Gosh Karen, your so stupid!”

There was some silence then another voice.

“Should we wait and tell them?”

“Nah, we can go down to hear what North and East up to instead of just waiting.” Someone replied. “Who knows, these Top Formers might not of done anything anyway.”

“I just want to get them back.”

“And we will.” The distinct voice of James said. “But we have to be cleaver about it.”

There was some muffled agreements.

“And if worst comes to worst, we could use The Eddie Thing.” Someone else said.

There was slightly less enthusiasm at this and then the sound of footsteps descending down the stairs.

Stan waited until he thought there was fair distance then spoke.

“What the fuck-“

“They s-said the w-w-war was oh-over!” Bill said, cheeks red.

“Can we trust them though?” Stan asked, leaning on on leg.

Bill fumed silently.

“It sounded like they were plotting something for sure.” Stan said. “Or they were going to spy on us.”

“I s-s-say! You d-don’t think they k-know about t-t-the sleepover?” Bill said, spinning to look at Stan.

“Sounded like they wanted to tell on us about something.” Stan said.

“And w-what did t-they m-m-mean about the E-e-e-eddie t-thing?” Bill asked.

Stan shook his head. He couldn’t think on anything in particular that Eddie has done to them, apart from being especially sassy.

“S-should we maybe... Call t-the s-s-sleepover off?” Bill asked quietly.

“No.” Stan said definitely. “We have to do this. South and West can’t come in the way of this!”

“O-okay!” Bill said, raising his hands. “J-just saying.”

“Let’s go.” Stan said after a while.

They both headed back to the common room, and something built up in Stan’s chest. Mike would be part of the Losers Club after tonight. Mike would be back again. Stan wouldn’t be such a bad person.

Better days would come.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, in the dining Hall**

“Why do they always chose the boring songs?” Richie said.

“I’ve counted and that’s the ninth time you’ve complained about the songs over dinner.” Stan said, violently stabbing his potato.

“You know that you can eat your food without denting your fork, right.” Bev said, eyeing Stan’s plate.

“I’m nervous, okay?” Stan replied.

“Nervous enough to snap the table in half, huh.” Ben said, about to take a drink but stopping when Stan gave him a death stare.

“I just want Mike’s party to go well.” He said, voice lower now. “We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Of course they couldn’t. Eddie could barely last a week without Mike, how would they all last the rest of the year?

“We have it under control.” Richie said. “You’re lucky that me and Eds picked good music.”

“T-t-top forty?” Bill mocked.

“Haha.”

The six Losers were sitting at their normal table, eating dinner before they had to go back to their dorms. Eddie thought he could probably cut the tension around them with a knife. All of them were anticipating tonight for a many reasons, but the main one was Mike.

What if he didn’t want a party? What if he didn’t come back to The Losers Club? What if they messed it all up and ruined his birthday?

Eddie closed his eyes and tried to shut off his thoughts. Nothing would go wrong if they stuck to the plan. All they had to do was make sure no one like Matron heard them, and if they played the music low and didn’t yell or anything idiotic like that then they should be fine.

Weirdly, these thoughts didn’t make Eddie’s heart stop fluttering.

“That’s it.” Richie said, slapping his palms on the table. “I’m requesting a song.”

“Better hope they have it on their CD.” Bev said, finishing the last peas on her plate.

“Christmas songs are the best songs.” Ben said. “It’s not up for debate.”

Bill shook his head. “One w-word; musicals.”

“Aw crap.”

Richie was still leaning back, trying to catch sigh of the radio that controlled the music that had been echoing around the castle all day.

Eddie finished his food and got up to put his plate away. Ben followed suit.

“You nervous?” Eddie asked.

“Not really.” Ben said, sliding his plate onto the rack. “I’m more excited than anything.”

Eddie put his plate down. “I’m so worried that my head may pop off.”

Ben laughed and they started to head back.

“How are you so calm?” Eddie asked. Ben shrugged.

“I know tomorrow I’ll look back at the party and think, woah, all that nervous running around for nothing.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that worrying will get me nowhere. I just try to focus my thinking on everything that could go right verses everything that can go wrong.”

Eddie smiled. “You put things into perspective well, Ben.”

“I know.” Ben laughed. He slid back into his seat at the table.

“D-do you w-w-want-“ Bill started, but at that moment Richie jumped up.

“Come with me.” He said to Eddie, grabbing his arm. “I won’t stand for any more of this bullshit.”

Eddie, about to sit back down, let Richie drag him away, giving the rest of his friends a small wave.

Richie’s passion for music was something that could be great but could also get tiering. Hearing the ‘best songs of the 70s’ while trying to do your math homework wasn’t really a good combo. But, Eddie also enjoyed Richie’s music talks when he wasn’t semi stressed. He hadn’t listened to much music when he lived with his mum, so it was nice to let Richie inform him about the meaning behind songs and what bands were the best.

On evening, after Eddie had told Richie the only music he had heard was the seasonal Christmas songs on his mum’s radio and the gospel songs at Church, Richie had taken him into the common room. He had picked out his favourite song from the selection on the rack and the two of them had danced on the sofa as it played on the radio in there.

It was nice, having someone care about him. Not letting him deal with stuff alone.

Eddie felt a pang in his chest at this. Mike must of felt so excluded and Eddie felt absolutely awful. To find friends when you’d never had them before and then for them to just leave must of been so hard of Mike, and Eddie promised himself to always check in on Mike after the party.

“Think that’s the radio?” Richie asked, pointing to a largish radio on a low shelf filled with CDs and vinyls.

“Guess so.” Eddie said.

Mr Raidor was standing by it, speaking to one of the Top Formers in West’s half.

“Come on.” Richie said quietly, walking forward.

Eddie stayed next to him, twiddling his thumbs nervously. Mr Raidor was head of West and South and even though Eddie doubted that would make him hate him and Richie, it did put him of edge. After all, North and East didn’t exactly have great history with his half.

Richie stopped close to Mr Raidor and waited for the conversation between the Top Year and him to finish.

“Can you at least pick a song I’ll know?” Eddie hissed. Richie smiled and shook his head.

“You’ll definitely know this, Eddie Spaghetti. It’s played over and over at Christmas. Plus it’s just your thing.”

“Think you know me well then?” Eddie asked.

“Course I do.” Richie said seriously.

The Top Former said something then walked away, leaving Mr Raidor alone.

“What can I do for you boys?” Mr Raidor asked, turning on his heels to face them.

“I’d like to request a song.” Richie said.

“Ah.” Mr Raidor said. “And what song would that be?”

“Baby it’s cold outside.”

Eddie coughed into his arm. Richie was right; It was one of Eddie’s favourite Christmas songs at home. A year or so before he came to Whitemore he figured out how to save songs onto tapes, and had played it on repeat at Christmas in his bedroom, while his mother was downstairs.

“Once this song finishes I’ll play it.” Mr Raidor said cheerfully. “Now you boys should get going to bed, before your tutor checks on you.”

Richie nodded then him and Eddie walked away, smiling like idiots.

“Told you I had great music sense.” Richie said as soon as they crossed the corner and were out of sight.

“How’d you guess?” Eddie asked, grinning.

“I know you well Eds.” Richie said again.

They passed the Hall now. It was empty apart from a man pulling the rack of plates into the kitchen. The Losers must already be upstairs, Eddie thought. This made his heart jump again, knowing it was only a few hours until the party.

Him and Richie left the hall and turned to go up the stairs when the first notes of baby it’s cold outside started to play.

Richie practically jumped up the stairs and Eddie laughed.

‘I really can’t stay,’  
‘But baby it’s cold outside.’

Maybe it was something about being with Richie but Eddie heard himself singing along as he climbed the stairs. He had never been this outgoing or this confident, but it felt good to just do something silly for the sake of it. Actually, Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had just had fun.

The two reached the top, Eddie singing the Woman’s part of the song* and Richie singing the Man’s.

‘My Mother will start to worry,’  
‘Beautiful, What’s your hurry?’

Eddie almost completely forgot he was at Whitemore for a minute. Him and Richie ran down the landing, laughing and singing at the top of their voices.

‘I ought to say, no, no, no sir.’  
‘Mind if I move in closer?’

They both leant in on the banister that was running across the top of the stairs. Eddie’s face was so close to Richie’s he could probably count all the freckles on his cheeks.

They both sung the end line, and Eddie didn’t even care that they probably sounded awfully off key. It had been fun and he had enjoyed himself. AND he hadn’t worried the whole time.

The music stopped and for a minute all Eddie and Richie did was grin at each other.

“Eds-“ Richie started but at that moment he was cut off.

“Boys!” A crisp voice said from behind them, and Eddie jumped around.

Mrs Henderson was standing there, arms crossed. She didn’t look angry but there was certainly something intimidating about her.

“I understand that Christmas is a fun time but if we could please refer ourselves from a full out performance next time it would be widely appreciated.”

Eddie mumbled a yes, knowing full well that his face was a bright red colour.

“Now please get to bed, or else I’ll have to report you to Matron.” Mrs Henderson said, smiling very slightly now.

“Doesn’t Matron usually check on us, Miss?” Eddie asked as politely as he could.

“It shall be me tonight, I’m afraid.” Mrs Henderson said. “Matron’s caught a rather bad cold.”

“The weather is awfully bad at this time of year.” Richie said. “Say, do you want me and Eddie to check in on everyone? If you don’t mind me saying so, you look tired.”

Mrs Henderson laughed warmly. “Why, how lucky I am to have two mature young boys in my tower!”

Eddie laughed lightly at this.

“Well, If you don’t mind then that would be lovely. I dare say Audra could do East’s dorm.” Mrs Henderson gave them a nod. “Off you go then.”

Eddie thanked her for no apparent reason and walked off with Richie.

“Way to go.” Eddie whispered. “Now we don’t need to worry about Matron hearing us in the night of Mrs Henderson checking in.”

Richie gave a small down and the two of them laughed as the burst into their dorm.

The rest of the boys were at their beds, talking happily to one another. Well, apart from Mike. He looked even glummer than usual and it took every inch of Eddie’s will power to not run over and hug him.

“What took you guys so long?” Ben asked.

“We’ll say in a bit.” Riche said, tilting his head to indicate that it was about the party.

Mike looked up and must of sensed he wasn’t wanted because he grabbed his night bag and went into the bathroom, locking himself in.

“He doesn’t normally lock the door when he’s doing his teeth.” Eric said quietly, staring at the door. Eddie felt his heart do another sad jump.

The boys all made a circle in the centre of the room. Eddie huddled in close to Stan and Ben.

“Me and Eds bumped into Mrs Henderson on the way up.” Richie said, leaving out the singing details. “She told us that Matron was sick and that we could be the monitors tonight, so we don’t have to worry about teachers busting us.”

There was a small cheer.

“You sure everything’s ready?” Stan asked, looking worried.

“Y-y-yes!” Bill said. “This w-will be g-g-great!”

“Here Here!” Blake called.

“So what time should we set the alarm for?” Ben asked. Ben was the only one of them who had any sort of clock. He said his Mum had given it to him on birthday and he was extra careful with it. He had volunteered to hide it under his bed so it would wake him up at a certain time. Eddie desperately hoped Ben wouldn’t sleep though it.

“Ten to twelve?” Richie suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Eric said.

At that point, the bathroom door opened with a loud click and Mike walked out. The boys broke apart quickly and Mike look confused.

They got into bed and Eddie turned the lights off, being the closest to the switch out of him and Richie.

“Goodnight.” He said to the whole dorm.

There were a few mumbled replies and Eddie smiled.

It was indeed going to be a good night. Just not in the way Mike might of thought it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we tagged this as a slow burn but at this rate they’ll be married by chapter 12  
> Anyways, after they’ve finished their first year at Whitemore, me and Alice will of course write the rest of the years until the leave (year five) BUT we’ll probably start different book things for that?? Like make a series so it’s not all squashed together (hope that makes sense) Also book two is planned and a lot of romance happens to brace ya self’s


	12. Rumour Has It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally Mike’s party (and the tip of the iceberg in terms of what misfortune these seven kids face)  
> yeah a lot happens here

**Mike Hanlon, sleeping in his dormitory**

Mike hadn’t expected to get to sleep easily, but almost as soon as his head touched the pillow he was out.

And he had been sleeping well, until someone grabbed his shoulders.

“Mike? Mike! Wake up!”

Mike jumped up in his bed, frantically looking around.

“Who’s there!” He said, still half asleep.

“Mike, it’s me.” The voice of Richie Tozier said.

Mike blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust.

The dorm was dimly lit by the moon that was shining from outside the window. It seemed quiet, apart from the figures standing infront of him.

One was definitely Richie Tozier, coke bottle glasses identifiable in the dark. Standing next to him was a slightly taller boy, and Mike thought it could be Eric.

“Something’s happened.” The other figure said, and Mike was right in thinking it was Eric.

“I don’t-“ Mike said, only now realising that Richie was talking to him.

“Something is happening in the common room, we need you to check it out.” Eric hissed urgently.

Mike had no idea what was actually happening, and maybe if he was in his right mind and hadn’t just woken up he would of questioned this.

Instead, he slipped on his slippers and stood up.

“What do you mean common room?” He asked. “Is there a robber or something?”

“You’ll see.” Richie whispered.

The three trudged out of the common room, Mike wrapping his arms around himself. It was cold at Whitemore, especially at night, and he’d forgotten to put his dressing gown on.

The Castle was completely silent, and now Mike was questioning things. Why has Richie and Eric woken him up? And what was the thing he needed to see in the common room?

They stopped outside the door and Mike could already see light from under the door crack.

“Go on.” Eric said.

Mike tilted his head and pushed the door open with his hand.

The room he stood in front of appeared to be normal. The lights were on but apart from that, nothing looked out of place.

“No ones here.” Mike said quietly, turning to face Richie and Eric. To his surprise, both boys were grinning.

“It’s by the sofa.” Richie said.

Mike suddenly felt like running back to his dorm and jumping into his bed. What if this was some stupid sort of plan to humiliate him? After all, he had told Stan he’d wanted a break from all of them, yet Richie had lead him out of bed.

“Guys-“ Mike started, but Eric pointed to the sofa.

“There’s someone there, I swear!” He said.

Mike made up his mind that he’d check the sofa, and if it was empty he’d go straight back to bed.

“Fine.” Mike sighed. He took a few steps forward into the common room when a loud outburst made him jump.

“Surprise!”

Mike could hardly believe what he was seeing. Standing all around him, behind chairs and by the fireplace, was North and East students.

They were all smiling warmly at him, and Mike now noticed the balloons and ginger beer bottles around the room.

Had he just walked into a party for him, or was he hallucinating.

“We hope you’re not mad.” Ben said. “We thought you deserved a party, after how nice you were and Stan said you’d never had one before.”

Mike smiled. “Thanks guys. I-“ He couldn’t finish his sentence because a rush of emotions hit him so suddenly he thought he was going to break down right there and then.

All of this for him? They’d done all of this, and it was for him. For Mike Hanlon. They’d actually organised a whole ass party for him. And they didn’t have to at all.

“You really do care.” Mike said quietly, not meaning to even speak out loud.

There was a mumble of agreement and then a all too familiar voice spoke.

“Of course we care about you Mike. We never stopped.”

Mike looked at Stan and broke out into a massive smile.

“Sorry I doubted you. I must of seemed so harsh and you were in the right all along-“

“It’s not your fault.” Stan said, smiling too. “We were trying to organise a party but we were so wrapped up we were tactless. And we’re so so so sorry. It’s our fault and we should of realised how we were acting.”

Mike ran up and hugged Stan then because Man, he needed Stan back in his life.

“I missed you.” Mike whispered to Stan.

“I missed you too.”

The broke apart, grinning. A small cheer went up and Richie walked up from behind Mike.

“Now.” He said. “Don’t you think it’s about time we actually got this party stated?”

A huge cheer went off, quickly followed by a loud shh from Eddie and Patty.

Richie put on some music and lowered the volume and Bill and Bev opened a bottle of ginger beer.

Audra, Emily, Buffy, Greta and Alison all got up when a song Mike didn’t know started to play and did a big mosh and somehow Mike got dragged in by Stan or Ben or maybe even Eric but at that moment all that mattered was that he was with his friends.

His actual friends.

And as he was dancing, Mike swore he felt at home.

 

**Richie Tozier, with the Losers at Mike’s party in the Common Room**

So, Richie had definitely attended some parties in his time. And by ‘his time’, he had attended parties while he was still going to his old school.

One of his so called friends would drag him to them and he’d pretend to enjoy it. They always smelled like weed and would have the worst music Richie had ever heard on full blast.

But this party was different. For starts, he was actually enjoying it. There was no weed or alcohol and the music was good.

Second, Mike was enjoying it, which was even more important. He hadn’t stopped grinning since they’d jumped out and that had been half an hour ago.

They mostly danced or eaten from the selection of food Ben and Bill had managed to stash. Every now and again, someone would leave the common room and go down the few stairs until they were on the landing, to make sure no teachers or students were nearby.

The door was shut though, and they were being careful not to be overly loud so Richie thought they’d be okay. The dorms were at the other end of the Castle anyway so the chances of anyone hearing them was incredibly slim.

But no one, not even Stan was worrying about that. And Richie thought that maybe a party was what they all needed.

“Okay okay!” Greta said, standing up from where she’d been sitting. “Dancing is fun and all but we need to play some party games!”

There was a small cheer.

“How about... spin the bottle.”

Mixed reactions met Greta’s words.

“Maybe not, maybe not.” Richie said over the commotion, standing up.

The (now seven) Losers has been at the side of the room, having a break from dancing. They’d been talking happily and it was like Mike had never left them in the first place. It was nice, and a part of Richie wanted those moments to last forever.

“How about truth or dare?” Bev said from where she was sitting, one knee drawn in.

“Yeah, truth and dare is always fun!” Chloe said from the sofas.

There was a cheer from all of them, and Emily called out “here here!” in her response.

The two towers made their way to the centre of the room, and squashing up on the soft maroon rug. Richie crossed his legs over each other, Bev on his left and Mike on his right.

“Okay!” Audra said, clapping her hands. “Any ground rules?”

“You have to do your dare or answer the truth otherwise there’s a forfeit.”

“You have to be completely honest.”

“The dares can’t be extreme extreme.”

“No killing of other players allowed.”

“Okay, all sounds good.” Audra said, taking lead once again. “We’ll go clock wise then. Who should start?”

“Considering it’s Mike birthday, I nominate him.” Richie said slyly.

Mike wacked Richie’s arm.

“Yes, Mike should start.” Stan said, and Mike looked like he was about to whip out a frying pan to knock everyone out a window.

“Pleaseeee.” Richie said, giving his best puppy dog eyes behind his glasses. “You’ll have to go anyway.”

Mike sighed. “Fine.”

A smaller cheer went off this time, and Audra smiled. “So Mike; Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.” Mike said. “I’m risking nothing.”

“Oh I have one.” Ben said, grinning. “Mike, if you had to date one person in this room, who’d it be?”

Mike went red.

“Gotta a-a-answer.” Bill said, grinning.

“Well uh.” Mike stuttered like. “Maybe um... Bev?”

A loud cheer went up and Stan spat his ginger beer out.

“Why oh why Mike!” Bev said, trying not to laugh.

“Because I know her well! That’s all! I swear!” Mike tried, but was soon laughing as well.

“Richie!” Audra said. “Truth or dare?”

Richie smiled. “Why, dare or course. There’s nothing in this world good old Richie Tozier can’t do-“

“Give is a catwalk.” Greta said, eyes glinting.

There was an outbreak of cheering and Richie grinned.

“If you simply insist. Mrs Marsh, Mrs Bowie, would you kindly assist me in this daunting task?”

Bev and Greta jumped up and the three of them went outside of the common room, making sure to close the door quietly.

Within a few seconds, Bev had given Richie a whole routine to perform and Greta had whipped out a brush and hairspray and transformed Richie’s hair into something that resembled a birds nest.

Richie kicked the door open, doing his best pose. The teens inside cheered and Richie strutted in, Bev behind him on his right and Greta behind on his left.

Richie sassed his way to the end of the room, giving another pose before almost falling to the ground in laugher.

“B-b-bravo!” Bill said, clapping hard.

Ben and Eddie were besides themselves with laughter and Richie didn’t know if he’d ever felt happier.

They returned to the circle and the game continued for a while.

“Bev, would you kiss anyone in here?”

“...yes.”

“Stan, every swear word from now until the morning you say as to be a food.”

“For carbonara sake.”

“Ben, have you ever kissed someone before?”

“Well now, I don’t think it matters-!”

“Eddie, if you had to change something about yourself, what would it be?”

“My dangerously high sass level.”

After fifteen minutes, the circle was nothing but laughter. Richie couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.

“Stop, my cheeks are hurting from all this laughing!” Eddie cried, face red.

“Okay Rich, you’re last.” Audra said. “Truth or dare?”

Richie smiled. “Dare.”

“I have it!” Mike said, then leaned forward and whispered, “You have to dance with the next person who says your name.”

Richie snorted. “Sure thing Mikey.”

“Secret huh?” Bev asked. Her cheeks were rosy and she looked peacefully happy.

“Can’t say, young lady.” Richie said, pretending to tip his hat at her.

“Well, fine Richard, I shall ask no more.” Bev said, unaware that she’s stepped into a trap called Richie’s Dancing.

Mike laughed into his arm and Richie jumped up, grabbing Bev’s hand.

“It seems we’re due a dance.”

“Oh my penne.” Stan said from his position near Mike.

“So this was your date then.” Bev asked, smiling. “Well I’d be honoured to dance with thee.”

Richie dragged her and instead of the graceful spinning he was sure many people were anticipating, they both began to do some aggressive jumping in time.

Mike dragged Stan up from the floor, despite Stan’s mumbling, and doom everyone was dancing to the upbeat track that was playing.

Everyone moved around laughing, occasionally grabbing the closet person they were near to and spinning them around, and while all of this was happening Richie couldn’t help but smile.

And he thought maybe it didn’t matter if a party had alcohol or not. Maybe that didn’t matter.

Maybe it was the people who did.

 

**Bill Denbrough, still in the Common Room at Mike’s party**

The common room had quietened down a bit now. Everybody sitting contently and a few chuckling at the odd joke Richie came out with.

Bill couldn’t quite get his head around how well their idea was working. Everybody actually seemed happy that evening. Not a dull face in sight.

“And then she pinned me up against the wall and started-“

“That’s enough of that, Richie!” Eddie cut him off before the joke could take a turn for the worst. “Do you actually know any non sexual good jokes?”

“You.” Richie shifted in his seat.

“Thin ice, my friend, thin ice.” Eddie glared at him.

“Sorry Eds-“

“Don’t call me Eds.”

“Guys be quiet you sound like an old married couple.” Bev rolled her eyes, making both Richie and Eddie look down.

“Anyway, I just wanna thank you guys, for like the hundredth time. I really don’t think I could’ve lasted another day without you guys. I thought it was a good idea to take a break at the time but, I thought wrong.

“I realised that, even if you hated me, you guys would always be my friends and have a special place in my heart.” Mike said, smiling at the Losers club he was once again a member of.

Bill raised his bottle of ginger beer. “T-T-To Mike.”

“To Mike!” The rest chorused and broke off into laughter.

“And Mike?” Stan said. “We are sorry, we never meant for you to feel left out, I wouldn’t have ever forgave myself if you’d gone forever.”

“Me too.” Ben smiled, yawning slightly.

Suddenly, the music had stopped playing and they were left in calm silence.

“What song now?” Richie heaved himself out of the slouching sofa. “Christmas songs?” He flashed a look at Eddie.

“Can I have a look at what else you got?” Mike got up. Richie moved so he could get a better look.

“Oh shit Richie! We need to pay that girl back! We have like a week.” Eddie gasped suddenly.

“Ah shit. It’s fine we’ll just go to town next weekend and give her money then.” Richie looked too tired to bother with statistics.

Mike flicked through the CDs and finally picked one. “This was always my favourite song.”

“Wh-w-What is it?” Bill asked, walking over to them.

“Rock with you by Michael Jackson.” He smiled. Mike passed the CD to Richie so he could play it.

“That’s weird.” Richie said, pressing the ‘On’ button repeatedly.

“What’s up?” Ben called from where he was sitting.

“It’s not turning on. It was working when I tried it earlier.” Richie puzzled over the CD player.

“M-m-maybe it’s n-not plugged in. I’ll check the l-l-lead.” Bill walked over to the plug socket just outside of the common room.

He was just bending down to the plug when he heard hefty footsteps treading up the stairs. “Oh fuck.” Bill cursed to himself and ran back into the room. “Guys! B-B-Big problem.”

“What’s wrong?” Bev and Eddie said in unison.

“Someone’s c-c-cuh-c-co-c-cu-com-“

“Bill spit it out!” Richie hissed. Soon after being nudged by Beverly.

“Someone is coming up th-the stairs, and I th-think its a t-teacher!” Bill finally got the words out, almost panting from the effort to not stutter.

“What!” Everybody jumped to their feet.

“I’m n-not repeating that ag-a-again.” Bill shook his head.

“Well what do we do?” Stan’s breath hitched slightly.

“We need to get back to our dorms, and fast.” Mike started pushing people out of the room.

“What about the mess though?” Richie said, kicking a Cadbury’s chocolate bar wrapper.

“Just turn the lights off and hope who ever it is doesn’t come in.” Ben hit the light switch.

“Ok hurry!” Mike ushered and everybody started sprinting to north’s dorm. Apart from most east obviously going to their dorm, although Bev stayed running with the boys.

“Just hide under my bed or something.” Eddie whispered to Beverly and she nodded.

They sped up the stairs as fast as they could and threw themselves into their assigned beds. Well, Beverly under Eddie’s assigned bed.

“I think we are safe.” Richie whispered, badly.

“Shut up! I hear footsteps.” A second after Eddie had hissed at Richie, the dormitory door started to creak open. Bill had to swallow a giggle when he heard Richie let out a snore. Bill, who was furthest away from the door, dared to look at who was standing in the door way. Though he was in no luck, she was in full shadow of the light.

A minute or so later she shut the door and everybody just started to giggle.

“Richie! I practically had to swallow my lungs when you started to snore.” Beverly’s muffled voice came from under the bed, sending them into more fits of laughter.

“Well that certainly woke us up.” Ben spoke a little louder now.

“Do we go back down?” Richie sat up.

“Is it worth the risk?” Beverly rolled out from her hiding place.

“We never got to hear Mike’s favourite song though.” Said Eddie.

“We could just get up early, then clean the common room up then while listening?” Stan said. “Instead of now?”

“I agree with Stan.” Mike spoke up.

“W-well it’s 02:38 now so we’ll h-have to be up in like th-th-three hours.” Bill checked his watch in the dim light of his bedside table.

“Better than nothing.” Stan said.

“I guess.” Richie slumped back down.

“Just wanna day this before everyone falls asleep,” Mike said. “This has definitely been the best night of my life.”

“Agreed.” Eddie sighed.

“I should probably get to my dorm.” Bev stood up. “... oh shit.”

“What now?” Richie looked over.

“What if she checked East’s dorm and saw my empty bed?” Bev groaned.

“She will just think you went to the toilet or something, it’s fine.” Ben reassured.

Bev waved goodnight and walked out of the door, leaving the boys to drift off.

“I wonder who that was.” Richie said sleepily.

“Don’t know, Don’t care, now shut up Richie I’m tired.” Eddie rolled over in his bed.

“Night Eds.” Richie whispered.

Bill smiled to himself. Even if they nearly had got caught, and even if they had of got caught, they would be facing the teacher together. Because they were the losers club.

And they could get through anything.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, too tried to even know anymore (but he’s in his dorm if you’re actually wondering)**

“Eddie, come on, we need to clean the common room. Eddie?” Ben shook Eddie.

“No.” Eddie rolled over to plant his face into the surprisingly now comfortable pillow.

“Eddie w-W-wuh-we agreed last n-night. Well. L-like th-th-thr-three hours ago.” Eddie heard Bill’s voice getting closer to him.

“I was a different person back then.” Eddie mumbled into his pillow.

Next thing Eddie knew were five teens frolicking on his bed, almost making him fall out of it.

“Go way.” Eddie crawled under the covers, although soon being exposed to the open when Richie dragged them off him.

“If you don’t get up now, so help me I will open all the windows and hide all the duvets.” Stan warned.

“I’ll just use the sheets then.” Eddie threw his pillow over his head.

“EDDIE!” Everybody practically shouted in unison.

“Ok! Ok! I’m up! I’m thriving and ready to clean up the astounding mess we produced-” Eddie sat up block still for a moment. “What am I doing again?”

“Come on, put your dressing gown on and come help us tidy up the common room.” Mike dragged Eddie out of his bed.

“Oh. Right.” He yawned and did as Mike asked.

The form dragged themselves out of their dorm and down the stairs, Ben and Bill soon went to retrieve East tower.

In reality, Eddie didn’t care if the mess in the common room was so great that they couldn’t see the old musty carpet. He was still so elated at the fact Mike was back in the Losers club. The plan worked and Mike was back!

Without him, Eddie probably would’ve lost it sooner or later, and it was best if no one experienced that.

Sooner or later East tower showed up and they all started working on the ransacked common room.

“What the hell did we do last night?” Patty shook her head, sweeping up the odd crumb from the apple tart.

“We fucked-“

“Shut up Richie.” Patty hit him with the handle of her broom.

A minute later Greta dropped dramatically onto the sofa. Not one of the girls batted an eyelid.

“Woah, Greta are you ok?” Mike waked over to her.

“All this working has me dearly tired out. You see I never had to do this at home.” She fanned her face.

“Leave her Mike, this the daily routine for her. She’ll get over it.” Beverly rolled her eyes at Greta’s direction, making Eddie chuckle.

“She’s not wrong.” Buffy spoke up. “One time, this lasted two hours! She wouldn’t stop going on about her hair.”

“You know I’m right here. I can hear you.” Greta sat up, glaring at Buffy.

“I know.”

After about twenty minutes of cleaning, but mostly groaning, they had finally got the common room back to it’s original tidiness.

“How long have we got until first bell for breakfast goes?” Bev asked, sitting down by the dimly glowing fire.

“Like an hour.” Ben scanned his watch.

“Yes! Well bye guys I’m gonna get to sleep.” Eddie attempted strolling out of the door when Richie grabbed his arm. “Ugh let me sleep.” Eddie stamped his foot on the ground.

“Little Eds, don’t go having a tantrum now.” Richie grinned dragging him to the sofa from where he was previously sitting.

Eddie sighed and gave into Richie’s grip.

“We could listen to Mike’s song now?” Stan said.

“But the CD player wasn’t working.” Richie reminded.

“Yeah, that’s b-b-because it w-w-wasn’t plugged in. I w-was going t-t-t-to b-but we r-ran into an i-issue.” Bill said, walking over to the door meaning to do the job he’d meant to complete a few hours ago.

Eddie heard Bill smack the wall and he walked back in shortly after. “That sh-s-sh-should do it.”

Richie got up and pressed the ‘On’ button once again, this time a green light springing up. He opened the top and placed the selected disc into it. Soon after the Michael Jackson song started playing and the room once again was filled with the same vibe it had earlier the day.

“Well Mikey, you sure do have good taste.” Richie bobbed his head to the music.

Half an hour later everybody decided to get ready for breakfast. Not all willingly may I add. Bev gave Eddie a piggie pack because he felt that lazy.

“If you think I’m gonna apologise for this, your wrong.” Eddie laughed as Bev dropped him down.

“I know you Eddie, I wasn’t expecting a word.” She grinned back. “See you in a bit guys.” She left the room.

Ben yawner dramatically. “Tell you what, I do kind of wished we went to bed earlier. I feel like death.”

“Me too.” Eddie groaned.

“We know for a fact you do, Eddie” Stan chuckled.

“It’s a mystery how I’m gonna stay awake in maths this morning.” Mike threw his shirt over his head.

“A mystery that, indeed, will never be uncovered.” Richie spoke in an appalling cockney accent.

They trudged back down the stairs for what seemed, to Eddie, like the millionth time that morning. They were greeted by Bev and they walked to the canteen.

“What happened to you kids.” Matron walked to where the teens were standing in the on-growing canteen line.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Eddie replied, a little too quickly.

“All of you?” She asked.

Eddie looked around behind him and shrugged. “Seems so.” Matron walked off and Eddie drew out a sigh of relief.

“We should’ve probably tidied ourselves up a bit more before coming down here.” Bev whispered, taking some cutlery before walking to their table.

“Oh well. Nothing could cover up this tidy mess” Eddie referred to himself, taking a seat.

A moment or two later the rest joined Bev and Eddie and the usual chattering kicked in once again. But this time it was different. And a lot better because they weren’t conscious of ruining Mike’s party any more.

Even now it still made Eddie a little guilty. But as long as Mike stayed. As long as all of the losers stayed, Eddie knew:

He’d be happy.

 

**Ben Hanscom, in Math Class**

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” Richie slammed his pencil down on his desk. “Who even needs algebra anyway?”

“Literally no one. Teachers are acting like we need to solve an equation to work out a speed limit on a road sign.” Bev had shaded half of her page grey, in five minutes.

“The only person who would probably need it here is Ben.” Mike smiled. “Good thing he’s smart.”

“I’m not that good.” Ben shook his head.

“Says the person who got ninety one percent on our last math test. I got like half of that!” Richie exclaimed.

“You got thirty five percent.” Said Stan.

“I’m proving a point.”

“You kids at the back, stop talking and write the answers down.” Mr smith called from the front of the class. Richie rolled his eyes.

“Well surely we should have a choice whether to do algebra or not.” Eddie whispered, stabbing his math book with his, now blunt, pencil.

“Guys!” Mr Smith yelled, making south and west tower smirk and laugh.

Ben assumed that no matter what, there was an unwritten rule that the two halves of the year had to despise each other.

“What are you looking at?” Richie called over.

“L-l-l-leave it Richie.” Bill nudged Richie.

About halfway through the lesson, Ben was almost one hundred percent sure Eddie had fallen asleep. Along with Richie, Bill, and half of East. Ben looked over to a few kids from South tower and noticed them whispering, seemingly confused about them. One caught Ben’s eye and looked away, shushing the others.

They couldn’t have found out about the party last night, surely. Ben reassured himself. They were pretty loud at times but their dorms were pretty much the other side of the school. It would be impossible for them to have known unless-

Unless they were spying on them. But why would they be half way across the school at midnight just by chance? They must’ve known something.

But their whispering might mean nothing. Probably planning their next attack on North and East. Ben’s mind often had a habit of running away with its self.

“Mr Smith?” Mrs Wilkins knocked on the door. Sir walked up to the door and opened it.

“Yes miss?”

“Could you please excuse North and East tower from the rest of this lesson please? I just need to have a little chat with them.” Miss Wilkins scanned the room. Ben looked at the South kids again. If Ben’s theory had been correct, there wouldn’t at least been a little recognition in their faces, but there was none.

The two towers got up and followed the head mistress out of the room, sharing concerned looks with each other. They walked to the canteen and were told to sit down.

“Mary, may you leave us for a minute or so?” Miss asked the cleaner.

“Sure.” She said as enthusiastically as a cleaner at a school of teens could. Mary put her stuff down and walked out the back door. Ben saw Bill look at him and they exchanged a smile.

“So.” She started. “Care to tell me what you were doing last night?” She pulled out a breakfast bar packet, one of which they’d eaten last night.

No one moved an inch. In fact Ben was sure everybody had stopped breathing at this point.

“W-we don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss.” Chloe spoke innocently. “I mean, that packet could’ve just been from yesterday lunch or something.”

“Don’t lie, it will get you in a much worse situation than you already are.” Mrs Wilkins spoke sternly.

“I’ll tell her.” Mike offered.

“No Mike, this isn’t your fault.” Bev looked up to the losers. “It’s ours.” She stood up. “We had a midnight feast, for Mike’s birthday. We’re sorry, we just wanted to do something special and we thought it would be fun and it didn’t really harm anyone-“

“It harmed their ability to stay awake in important classes.” Miss answered.

“Algebra isn’t really importa-“ Richie was cut off by Bill slapping him on the arm.

“But,” she carried on. “I understand. You wanted to do something special for your friend. And that’s ok, but you know it’s against the rules.”

Everybody nodded, keeping their heads down. All Ben could think about the whole time was, who snitched?

“We know. We’re sorry miss.” Bev said quietly.

“Now, if the thief doesn’t own up, everybody will get some sort of punishment.” She said calmly. “So anyone want to admit it?”

Every body remained quiet.

“I guess you’ll all have a punishment then. But if anyone has come to the sense of owning up, come to my office.”

Everybody left the room in silence. Making their way back to math, but soon enough chatter rose as they walked out into the open.

“Detention? I wouldn’t be too bothered but the fact it’s when we get to go to town?” Eric shook his head.

“She said it wouldn’t be too harsh. I wouldn’t like to see her angry and give us a punishment.” Said Buffy.

“I say this is Richie’s fault. If he hadn’t said about algebra-“ Greta was cut off.

“My fault!” Richie was getting angrier by the second, Ben could tell.

“Well yeah.” She said, shrugging.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie breathed.

“What?” Everyone chorused.

“Richie?”

“What!” He snapped, and Eddie flinched slightly.

“The girl. We are gonna run out of time and she’s gonna tell Mrs Wilkins about us. We’ll get into even more trouble.” Eddie said quietly, hoping not to flourish Richie’s anger anymore.

“Fuck her.” He sighed.

“The real qu-q-question is, wh-who-who snitched?” Bill asked.

“Know who I think it is?” Richie piped up again. “I bet it’s Greta.”

“Me?!” She gasped.

“Who else hates everybody here?”

“Doesn’t mean I did it!”

“It could this time!”

“Guys! Shut up!” Bev yelled. “Stop fighting, it’s not gonna get us anywhere.”

Everybody walked in silence, until Ben spoke up.

“Uh, Guys?” Ben asked quietly.

“Yeah?” A few replied.

“I think I have a theory on who it was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even though it took a twist, Mike is back!!!!!! Richie’s part was just them having fun lol and i love thee so much  
> anyway that was that, as always we are open for any feedback or questions!!


	13. The Times Are Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some unexpected drama between unexpected people (and some cute Losers moments)

**Stan Uris, in North and East common room**

Yes it could be worse, but it could be a lot better too.

Why couldn’t everything at the party run smoothly? They had a party and after a few hours they made their way to bed and the next day they weren’t so tired that Stan thought his eyes would pop out his head and onto his desk.

He kept reminding himself it wasn’t all bad. From them running to their dorms onwards, it had been excellent.

And Mike was back.

Mike was actually back.

The whole evening everyone had been having fun but Stan had to look at Mike every two minutes just to make sure he was there.

He still felt awful. Mike was one of the purest people he thought he’d ever meet, and to see him be so sad? Stan felt his heart stab at his chest whenever he thought of it.

Mike blamed himself but Stan didn’t know why. It was Stan’s fault, not Mike. Mike couldn’t of known, not at all.

And if Stan was in Mike’s shoes, he thinks he would of done the same thing, something he kept telling Mike after the party.

But it was over now anyway. Mike was back and he was happy, so Stan was happy.

And the only thing they had to worry about was the punishment they’d receive, which Stan was trying his best not to worry about.

Oh, and who snitched.

Snitched. It was a harsh word. Stan wondered who invented it. And why, exactly. Did someone reveal where someone had hidden objects or something? Was it betrayal? Or something for the greater good?

It didn’t matter anyway. His thoughts got carried away sometimes. All he needed to know was that someone snitched. Why was beyond him, but they had. Now, they needed to figure out who.

So the best thing to do was to organise an emergency meeting between East and North. Stan thought that hopefully, they could all figure out who did it.

North and East were once again in the common room. It was the day after Mike’s party, and there was a few minutes before they had to go down to breakfast, so Stan had called an emergency meeting.

Now, the sixteen teens were sprawled over the rug in a almost guarded fashion.

“Okay.” Stan said, taking lead best he could. “I think we all know why we’re here.”

“To burn Richie’s monstrous shirts?” Buffy asked.

“To figure out who snitched.” Stan continued. “The party was amazing, and I’m so so grateful that you guys helped and came but, we have to figure out who threw us under the bus.”

Some mumbles and Mike coughed.

“Stan’s right.” He said, looking shyly around like he didn’t know if he’d put his foot in. “I think we all want to know who and also why. I mean, what did that person gain from it?”

Stan gave Mike a (hopefully) reassuring nudge and clapped his hands to silence the room.

“I think-“ Stan started, but was cut off.

“Who died and made you queen?” Blake asked suddenly, looking unamused.

“What?” Stan asked.

“I mean, when was the last time I got a say? Let’s face it, I’m one of the best people in these two towers and I think I should at least lead this somehow-“ Blake said.

“Newsflash, big head, not everything has to feature you.” Eddie said, looking like he’d rather cut his ears off than to listen to Blake. “I mean, other people do exist, incase you were unaware of that. Stan’s trying to help everyone here, and if you weren’t so unbelievably dumb, I’d think you snitched.”

Blake opened his mouth then closed it, shrinking into himself.

“I mean uh.” Stan said, not trying to make things worse. “Yeah, I think it’s best-“

“Well it’s pretty useless.” Greta said, cutting Stan off again. “I mean, the person who snitched is literally sitting in this room right now.”

The room immediately went tense. Everybody shifted, looking at each other or crouching into themselves.

Stan tried to think straight;

If it was someone here, they could cross Mike off the list. He hadn’t know about the sleepover and hadn’t left the room the whole night so there wasn’t a chance for him to.

He highly highly doubted any of the Losers had so he crossed them off too.

But he still didn’t understand why. The person wouldn’t of gained anything surely. It just didn’t add up.

“What if it isn’t someone on here.” Ben said, breaking the silence.

“W-what d-do you m-m-me-mean?” Bill asked, hugging his legs.

Ben went quite, seemingly deciding if his idea was too crazy to be spoken. He shook his head, deciding it was speakable and opened his mouth.

“What if West and South somehow found out about the party and told Mrs Wilson?”

There was immediate talk at this.

“They wouldn’t have!”

“Those bitches!”

“That’s it, we’re making voodoo dolls and cursing them!”

“Guys!” Stan yelled, trying to silence everyone.

The noise dropped and Stan looked at Ben from across the circle.

“Why do you think it was them?”

“It’s just makes semi sense.” Ben said, talking more confidently now. “They’ve always hated us so it wouldn’t be out of their nature. And they could of easily told Mrs Wilson, her bedrooms at their side of the school.”

“Yeah but how would they of found out?” Alison asked. “It’s not like we were obvious about it. I mean, it was a surprise party, we couldn’t of been.”

“Besides, the war is over.” Richie said. “They don’t really have a reason to anymore.”

Stan thought Richie and Alison had points. There wasn’t a reason for West and South to tell on them. And even if they did have one, how could they of known. Unless...

He shot a glance at Bill, remembering what they’d heard up North tower the other day. But that couldn’t be it, could it?

“It’s more likely someone snitched.” Eric said.

“But Ben made a good point.” Bev said, smiling at him. “We have to look into every aspect.”

“Which is way its pointless discussing this when the person who snitched is in this very room!” Greta said.

“Well, Greta, do enlighten us.” Richie said, twisting. “Who do you think did it.”

Greta shook her head slightly. “I honestly don’t know.” She said. “I’m so torn.”

“Well I’m not.” Richie said. “Actually, I think I could take a random guess and say its you so-“

“Look, we’re clearly not getting anywhere.” Stan said dryly. “Someone snitched, but until we can figure out why we probably won’t be able to figure out who.”

The bell for breakfast went and everybody got up, all feeling a little unsettled.

Because Greta was right. There was someone who had snitched on them, betrayed them.

And that person could very well be in the same room as Stan.

 

**Bill Denbrough, a particularly messy Art classroom**

Mrs Wilson’s punishment for North and East, despite her word, was pretty harsh. Well, it was in Bill’s opinion.

She’d separate them into pare or threes and gave them a classroom to clean. It was over lunch too, and Bill would of much preferred to be spending it with his friends. Instead, he’d scoffed down his lunch and headed to the Art class with Stan, dreading the next twenty minutes.

“Why c-cou-couldn’t we of g-g-gotten t-the g-g-good c-classrooms?” Bill asked, emptying pots of murky water.

“Don’t think there is a good classroom.” Stan replied.

Bill disagreed. He felt side Mrs Wilson had purposely given him one of the hardest classrooms. It was true that whatever classroom you were given you’d have to do some work, but with Art it was so messy.

You had to rinse the brushes and pots and clean all the spilt paint. It really sucked.

“Eddie g-gets the f-f-fuck-fucking Geography c-cl-classroom!” Bill grumbled. “What’s h-he g-got to c-cl-clean there? A g-gl-globe?”

“Stop complaining.” Stan said, opening the blinds. Bill winced at the light as it flooded into the semi dark room.

It hadn’t snowed since Sunday, and Bill was praying it would. He kept thinking how fun it would be to sledge with all the Losers, or have a snow fight, or even just watch the snow with them.

He kept thinking of Georgie around Christmas time anyway, and he needed distraction.

He shook his head and grabbed a bundle of brushes, rinsing them under the running tap water. The colours splattered his hands and Bill dropped the brushes.

“S-sh-shit!” He yelled, jumping back.

“What’s wrong?” Stan asked, stepping back from the windows.

“I g-got paint e-ev-everywhere!” Bill said.

Stan looked at the drops on the floor and his breath wavered.

“Stop being such a baby.” Stan said, moving back towards the window.

Bill huffed and turned the water off, muttering about how the teachers could keep their dirty brushes .

He thought he could maybe stack some papers instead, away from the dangers of paint, when the door was pushed open.

Bill withered around, expecting to see Mrs Wilson, or even Mrs Henderson, but was instead greeted by James and another boy in a different uniform.

“Oh, its you.” James said, looking unpleasantly surprised.

“Glad to see your eyesight is still in working order.” Stan said, hardly turning around.

James gave a quick eyebrow and the boy next to him smirked at Stan.

“Say, why are you alone in a classroom at lunch?” He asked, and Bill noted his slight cockney accent.

“W-we g-g-got a d-de-de-deten-“

“Detention.” Stan finished for him, and Bill nodded.

“This is all very interesting but we have more important things to do.” James said, and the boy next to him laughed.

“You’re not going to even introduce yourselves?” He asked. “I’m hurt, honestly.”

“Well, w-w-who are y-yo-you?” Bill asked. He would of surely remembered if this boy was in West, wouldn’t he?

“I’m Luke.” The boy said. “Pleasure to meet you, what’s-your-face.”

Bill tilted his head, summing him up. He didn’t seem very standoffish. But with James as his friend, some of his influence was surely going to rub off on him.

“Well, since you so very kindly graced up with your name, I’m Stan and that’s Bill.” Stan said, turning around to face them. “You’re new, then.”

“Transferring her after Christmas.” Luke said, still smiling. “James is showing me around.”

“Well, we should get going now.” James said. “I’ve yet to show him the pool, so I should get to that.”

“My old school barely had a gym.” Luke laughed. “Well, see you around I guess.

“Yes, off we go.” James said. “Please trip and break your neck.”

“Same for you.” Stan said, waving.

“Might d-de-deflate your h-he-head a l-l-little b-bit.” Bill said. “Now, h-have a l-lo-lovely d-day!

James blew them a (sarcastic) kiss then slammed the door.

“Seems cocky.” Stan said, moving around to stack the canvases.

“You th-th-think?” Bill asked.

“Yep.” Stan said. “I have this sixth sense yanno. It lets me sum people up within the first two seconds of meeting them.”

Bill raised his eyebrows and Stan lifted his arms up.

“Kidding!” He said.

Bill started to wipe down the desks, thinking. Honestly, Luke didn’t seem that bad. He hadn’t straight out insulted Bill’s stutter, the way most people do within meeting him for the first time. And he had seemed pretty keen to stay and talk.

“Maybe h-he isn’t s-so b-b-bad.” Bill said.

He was very, very wrong.

 

**Mike Hanlon, in an empty common room**

No matter how many times Mike would remind himself that a he wasn’t in an endless dream, he couldn’t get over how he was once again in the losers club. His first proper friends. Unless you count sheep or cows. Ever since his ‘lets take a break for a while’ conversation with Stan, he regretted it more and more every passing minute.

And that’s what made the party ten times more special to Mike.

“Well, I’m bored.” Richie picked at the piece of material that was sticking out of the chair.

“When aren’t you?” Bev said. “Always wanting something.”

“Rather that than sitting around doing nothing.” Richie replied.

“What’s so bad about doing nothing?”

“You’re not distracted.” Richie mumbled.

“From wha-“ Bev was cut off when Stan and Bill walked through the common room door.

“Sorry we took a little longer.” Stan said, taking a seat by the fire place next to Mike.

“Yeah, s-s-someone was b-b-being sh-shown around so w-we decided to in-i-intr-introduce ourselves.” Bill carried on the conversation.

“Who were they?” Mike asked.

“Luke, moving to west tower.” Stan replied.

“Ugh great, now I have to introduce myself to someone new all over again. Wanna know a secret? I cant be bothered.” Richie sighed.

“What a mindset to have.” Eddie rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. “But I know what you mean.”

“At least he’s moving after Christmas.” Ben said.

“Yeah. Oh, and speaking of Christmas, we should do something.” Bev beamed. The losers sat in silence, waiting for her to carry on. She didn’t.

“... like?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know, I thought one of you would have an idea.” Bev shrugged.

“But you’re the one who suggested-“ Eddie frowned a little.

“Well, Christmas is about giving so-“ Mike was interrupted.

“And receiving.” Richie added.

“And receiving.” Mike smiled. “So maybe we could buy each other presents or something.”

“Oh! L-l-like s-s-secret Santa!” Bill said excitedly.

“Yeah, like secret Santa.”

“So you’re telling me I have to spend money, which I don’t own a lot of by the way, on one of you guys?” Richie asked.

“Kinda how secret Santa works.” Stan said.

“Alright, But whoever I get don’t go expecting much.” Richie shook his head.

“The person won’t know who you got, that’s the idea.” Ben sighed.

Bev walked over to the cupboard full of paper and took a sheet out, chucking it to the circle the six were in. She then walked over to a pen pot and chuckled a pen and ruler over.

“Ow!” Eddie yelped. “The ruler hit my cheek.”

“Don’t cry Eds.” Richie chuckled, although soon regretting that sentence when Eddie started pummelling him with a cushion.

“Ok i’ll start writing names on the paper.” Mike got up and retrieved the paper that had landed miles away from where they were all seated. He picked up the pen and started writing everybody’s name down.

“Woah I didn’t know you could do calligraphy.” Ben had walked over to Mike with without him realising. “How did you learn?”

“Oh uh, I don’t really know to be honest. I guess I just did it one day.” Mike shrugged, chuckling.

“Wish I had your talent, it would take me at least three years to learn how to do it. I’ve always wished I could do calligraphy.” Ben laughed.

Mike finished writing and looked at Bev. “How do you expect me to cut this paper with a ruler?” He asked her.

“Wait you don’t know how to do it?” She asked.

“Do what?” He passed the paper and ruler to Bev. She laid it on the table and positioned the ruler over the paper, then started ripping. “Wait woah what are you doing?”

“Cutting the paper.” She replied, tearing off another side.

“Well i’ll be damned.” Mike sighed. “That’s a whole new sorcery in its self.” Bev laughed.

“Anyone got a hat or bucket or whatever?” Beverly called.

“I have a sock.” Richie lifted up his foot.

“We a-ar-a-are NOT using o-one of y-y-y-your socks Richie.” Bill smacked his foot back down.

Eddie walked over to the bin and looked in it. “We can use the bin?”

“The bin? That’s more unsanitary than Richie’s clothing.” Stan pulled a face.

“It was emptied this morning I’m pretty sure.” Eddie said. “Otherwise it would still be full.”

“Does it look clean?” Bev asked.

“It doesn’t matter if it looks clean, bacteria is invisible last time I checked.” Stan folded his arms.

“Stan it’s fine, if it was changed this morning then it will be clean.” Ben reassured. Stan sat down, still a little unsettled.

“Can’t anyone just go upstairs and get a hat or something?” Stan tried one more time.

“No one can be bothered.” Mike smiled apologetically. Bev walked over to the bin and examined it, nodded, then chucked the squares of ripped up paper into it.

“Now.” Bev said, ushering everybody back into the circled that was formed. “Who wants to pick first?”

“I’ll g-g-go.” Bill offered, taking the bin. He put his hand in the bin and took out a piece of folded paper. He unfolded it and grinned slightly.

“Shall we go in a circle?” Stan asked. Bill nodded and handed it to him. Stan repeated Bill’s action. He, too, had a smile appear on his face. Next was Mike’s turn.

He took the bin from Stan and took the paper. It read ‘Ben’ in the handwriting he’d previously just wrote. He nodded and passed the bin to Eddie.

After everybody had took there paper and got their person to buy presents for, they tucked their paper into shirt and trouser pockets.

“Well now I can’t wait for Christmas.” Eddie smiled.

This was Mike’s first Christmas with friends. Actual friends. And he was determined to make it the best Christmas yet.

 

**Richie Tozier, in the common room with the rest of North and East**

Richie hadn’t felt this on edge since the start of Whitemore.

Knowing that someone around him had snitched made him feel weird. Like every single move he made would be monitored. Monitored and judged.

It just felt so odd to Richie. He remembered that feeling, except this time it was more scary. Because the last time he’d felt this way was at his old school.

It was under very different circumstances, of course. He’d felt that way because he had to be someone he wasn’t. He had to be that person or be tormented by someone alike that person. And after a while, it became easier. Easier to block out that voice in the back of his head telling him to stop and to not go along with everyone,

But now it was weirder. More intense. Because, he supposed, he wasn’t being careful on account of himself. Someone in the room was a mURDER.

But it was different now because he felt like himself. He was being careful because he didn’t want his two towers to suffer anymore. Someone in the room was out to get them, for whatever reason, and Richie didn’t like it.

“Guys, we cant ignore this forever.” Bev spoke up suddenly, dropping the book she was reading onto the sofa.

“Sure we can.” Richie found himself saying. “I mean, one of us snitched and threw all of us under the bus, but apart from that it’s all good.”

“What’s is up with you?” Greta asked. “I mean, you’re not normally this pissed.”

“Thanks.” Richie said starkly, and Greta shook her head.

If he was honest, Richie did feel several things. And that was because it felt like Whitemore was slipping and slipping back to his old school.

And he absolutely hated it.

He looked up, willing himself not to break down then and there.

Stan was looking at him from across the room, the face of someone trying to figure out a math problem of some sort. Richie met his eyes and Stan looked away, focusing on the fireplace.

“Listen, I know it’s not exactly the best time.” Bev said. “But we have to stick together, right. If we all distant ourselves then we stand no chance-“

“Chance against what?” Buffy asked. “It was someone in here, I thought we made that very clear.”

“But what if its not.” Mike said, twisting around in his seat. “Ben said, it could be West and South-“

“Gosh this is really positive.” Eddie said, not looking up from his book.

“You have a better suggestion then?” Blake asked, still clearly pissed from earlier.

“Guys!” Bev yelled. “Did you hear nothing of what I just said?”

“Oh we heard.” Greta said. “We just don’t think it’s relevant-“

“Greta can you please just shut your gob for one second?” Richie asked, trying not to boil over.

“Jee what’s annoyed you so much today?” Greta asked, flashing him a look. “Someone insult your wardrobe selection?”

“Right that’s it-“ Richie started, but at that moment there was a light knock on the door and it was pushed open.

A girl slipped into the room, looking around carefully. Richie noted that she was from West, a girl called Harriet, and immediately sat up

“Sorry to interrupt.” She said, smiling around. “But uh, I found this.”

She held out a hair band and Richie heard Bev inhale sharply.

“Greta, this is yours, right?” Harriet asked, holding it up higher.

“I don’t-“ Greta said, looking confused.

“You dropped it the other night. You were at the other side of the school, remember?” Harriet said. She placed the hair band on the table.

“I’ll see you around I guess. Bye!” She waved and walked out the door, closing it behind her.

There was a few minutes of silence. If it had been tense before then it was something else now.

“So it was Greta.” Richie said, speaking up.

“No!” Greta said. “It wasn’t me I swear-!”

“Not what it looks like.” Blake said. “Actually, it looks like the complete opposite.”

“You were going to throw us all under the bus for South?” Richie asked.

“Are you really going to make one assumption on that one girl?” Audra asked, looking equally angry.

“It wasn’t just an assumption, it was proof!” Stan said. “I’m sorry but-“

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Buffy said. “You’re all so kind and compassionate, helping out someone when they really need it.”

“But s-she is t-the w-w-one who s-s-s-snitched on u-us!” Bill said.

“She’s right here you know?” Chloe said.

“Guys.” Bev said quietly. No one apart from Richie heard her.

“I’m sorry if she’s your friend but-“ Eric said, getting cut off.

“No, I didn’t do shit!” Greta said. “It wasn’t even me-“

“Greta, give it up!” Richie yelled. “I don’t know why you did it-“

“For fucks sakes Richie Tozier, I didn’t do it!”

“Guys!” Bev full out screamed this time. Everyone fell silent.

“This is exactly what South and West want!” She said, arms outstretched. “We can’t fall out when we need to be together the most!”

Richie looked at her. How desperate she looked.

He wanted to hug her and tell her that it wasn’t that bad. That this would blow over.

But how could he say that if he didn’t believe it himself?

Because fuck, this felt nothing like home. A month ago, he had surprised himself with how much he was liking Whitemore. How he actually felt like himself.

But now everything was just falling behind his feet. Because Greta has sided with South? Because Mike had left for a while? Or was it because he’d got to comfortable being himself?

Maybe the best thing was to just leave. The whole thing was a mess and Richie felt like he’d only make it worse.

“Sorry.” He said quietly. “I can’t right now.”

He got up and left the common room, not just because of Greta snitching. Because he felt like he’d breakdown if he stayed in there for much longer.

He shut the door softly and let out a huge breath.

“Pull it together.” He whispered to himself, voice shaking.

The door shook and he stepped out of the way. All of North’s boys came out, some looking confused others looking sad.

“This is it then.” Stan said to all of them, dawdling on the landing. “We’ve split.”

And so they had. Because North and East weren’t on the same side anymore. They hadn’t got each other’s backs anymore. They weren’t working together as a team anymore.

And as Richie thought about it for longer, he realised they were almost enemies now.

 

**Beverly Marsh, in... well, would you be surprised if we said “common room”**

If Bev was honest, she didn’t know. She really had no clue. She didn’t want to take sides. She didn’t like the fact she was being made to choose a side. Of course she was somewhat on Greta’s side because yes, she can be the most annoying human on planet earth, but even by Greta’s standards it’s a bit low. But then she was on North’s side as well. She completely understood their reasoning and it mostly made sense. But somehow she couldn’t quite settle with either.

And Bev most definitely couldn’t settle with both towers being at each other’s necks every time they cross paths. And Beverly was surprised they would even manage to be in the same as each other. She had to do something. She had to at least help sort this new arising issue out. They had enough problems on their hands as it is.

So she decided. She wasn’t just gonna sit around all day while listening to north and east battle out for victory. That was most certainly not Beverly Marsh.

“I’ll be back later.” She spoke up to anyone who was listening. Bev strode out of the bickering common room and set her path straight to South and West’s towers. Something was off about this whole situation and she was going to figure out what it was.

She speed walked across the school, cautious for dodging any south or west teenager she saw. Bev was actually a little taken by surprise at how many students still played sport and swam outside in what felt like sub zero temperatures. She sighed and the steam that came out of her mouth just proved her point even more. Why she didn’t put a coat on? She didn’t know that either.

A lot of things in her life right now were questions rather than answers.

Bev reached the door of her other half of the year, looked behind her for final reassurance that no one was looking, and pushed open the door. Hoping the shadow that caught her eye just before she went through the door was just a tree.

Bev didn’t really know what her plan was. She just hoped for the best that something would jump out in front of her and say ‘hey! I’m your evidence for what ever you are looking for!” But that was highly doubtfully.

She wandered up the corresponding stairs that were identical to East’s tower and peeked through I door. No one was in there. Maybe that’s what she needed, Bev thought. She pushed open the door and looked for something to keep it from shutting incase it locked for some reason.

She looked around the room, losing hope in finding any evidence very fast. If they really had planned something, it would mostly likely be in the other dorm or the common room. So she walked back out of the room, hoping she hadn’t moved anything obvious, and shut the door again.

This time she walked up the corresponding North tower stairs. Being a lot more careful this time though. If they were anything like her half, there would most likely be people in there. She peaked through the key hole in the door and she was right about people being in there. Bev couldn’t quite understand what they were saying though. She crouched to the lower half of the door, hoping to hear better this way.

“But the English thingy makes no sense!” Said one voice.

“It could’ve been easier, like write a story or something.” Said another voice. Bev was just about to leave when she heard someone else.

“Yeah, I would’ve wrote something like: ‘the wrong one framed.’”

“Haha, or ‘it was them, or was it?’” The other person said.

“How convenient would that be? Then east and north would definitely be suspicious.”

Bev frowned, putting their conversation at the back of her mind to bring up later with the others. It definitely sounded like they knew something. In fact it was pretty obvious they knew something. But it didn’t make sense how. Unless Ben was right. But Bev needed just a little more evidence to prove both their theories right.

She walked down the stairs and to their common room, where she heard a lot more voices. Although nothing really relevant.

“What happened to your hair? Forget to brush it this morning?”

“Looks better than yours!” Bev rolled her eyes. She’d heard enough about hair.

Bev leaned closer to the door, inching her way by the balls of her feet. This was a big mistake. Beverly lost her balance and went crashing down into the door. Luckily it was a pull door so Bev didn’t go rolling through into the room.

“What the hell was that.” A voice said.

“Shit shit shit shit.” Bev whispered to herself clambering back to her full height.

“A ghost.” Another laughed.

“It could be east or north?”

“Nah.” The voice was getting closer and closer to the door, Bev was just sprinting around the corner when she heard, “they wouldn’t be smart enough to figure out it was us.”

She didn’t have time to even digest the sentence, if she was a second later running into an empty class room, she would’ve been caught.

“I told you.” The voice Bev now recognised as Thomas said. “No one.” She heard his footsteps trundle back into their common room.

“It must’ve been a ghost then.” A muffled voice murmured as the door shut. Bev let out a sigh of relief, satisfied with the evidence she’d found, without really meaning to. She walked out of the building but as she stepped outside, the shadow once again caught her eye. So this time she went to see what it was.

“Were you spying on me?!” She shouted at the student she found staring at her.

“Were you spying on that tower?” The boy replied calmly.

“Is it any of your business?” Bev retorted.

“I guess not,” he said.

“Then can you sto-“ Bev was cut off.

“Yet.” He grinned.

“What do you mean yet.” She frowned.

“I’m Luke, and I’m moving to West tower after Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet  
> this took a few lightyears to publish so we apologise butttt a lot happens after this and all that’s previously happened will add up andjdjsjsj   
> (you get the picture buckle up)


	14. It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> their friendship has my heart and this chapter provides

**Eddie Kaspbrak, in the Town near Whitemore**  
When Eddie still lived with his mum in Derry, he’d wouldn’t normally stay in the house.

His mum was honestly overbearing and irritating so Eddie would avoid her as much as possible. And because of his lack in friends, he normally found himself by the old train tracks.

They had been out of use since the 1950s and were prone to weeds. But they felt safe to Eddie. No one would be there so he could be alone. Breathe a bit easier.

He’d often walk down the tracks and look up at the sky. Sometimes he’d even imagine he was the only person for miles around.

It felt so lonely that he chest would ache and on more than one occasion he’d had to sit down because he’d been crying so much. There was something so sad but also peaceful about them.

After Eddie had joined Whitemore, after he’d made friends, he would sometimes think back and wonder how he did it. How he spent all that time alone with himself and had not broken down. He felt his breath catch at the thought.

And he promised himself he wouldn’t ever go back.

Well, now it felt like he was.

Felt like Whitemore was moving further and further away from him, like he could quite reach it. And it hated it.

He hated North and East ignoring each other. He hated the tension in the common room. And he hated that small ache in his heart that reminded him of Derry.

So when Mrs Wilson said that the first years could go into town for a few hours, Eddie was grateful for the break. Some space could do him good. And he was even more grateful when Bev linked arms with him as they were heading out of Whitemore that Saturday and said she wanted to spend the day with him.

“Just me?” Eddie said, only half faking his happy surprise. “Why Bev, I’m flattered!”

Bev gave one of her laughs that Eddie thought was one of the most infinite sounds in the universe and they’d practically skipped down to town.

Eddie had gotten Stan for his secret Santa and Bev had got Mike, so they both decided to hunt for a suitable gift. They’d raided a small gift shop and another larger bookstore before ending up in a thatcher store that looked like it sold anything.

“Think Mike would like one of these?” Bev asked, holding up a odd looking screwdriver.

“I think he’d check to see if you had a brain in there, if you got him that.” Eddie said.

Bev mumbled and laid it back down.

“I want to make this really special, see.” She said as her and Eddie walked around the table. “They all mean so much to me.”

“I get you.” Eddie said. “I want it to count.”

And he did. He wanted to buy something not because he could but because he thought Stan would like it. It would genuinely make him happy.

And Eddie couldn’t lie, the thought of having a friend to buy for was nice.

“I almost want to get them all something, as well as Mike.” Bev said. “Like a matching set.”

“Like clothes?”

“No, just something for all of them from me and Mike’s secret santa present.” Bev said. She turned round a corner and started to inspect a shelf.

“Well I have no clue what to get Stan.” Eddie said. “I did think I could get him something swimming related but what could that be?”

“Bottle of water.”

“Haha.”

They both rounded a side when Bev like out a gasp.

“I know!” She said. She reached on her tip-toes and picked up a navy diary from a higher shelf, almost making the things there fall.

“Think Mike likes writing?” Eddie asked.

She rested on her toes and wacked him with the book.

“We could get them all a diary!” Bev said. “Wait! And we could write them a message in the front!”

Eddie tilted his head. “Like a personal diary thing?”

“Yeah!” Bev said. “From both of us.”

Eddie nodded excitedly and they picked out five diaries, splitting their money. They paid (well Bev paid while Eddie stood nervously behind her) and then ran out the shop, laughing.

“Keep it down, else someone will report us!” Bev said, trying to slow her laughs.

“Yeah for being a public disturbance.” Eddie said, and they fell into laugher all over again.

Just then it began to snow, and Eddie ushered a hiccuping Bev Marsh into a cozy looking fish and chip shop.

There was a low chatter and Bev got them a window seat while Eddie ordered them both a cone on chips.

“Right.” Bev said, pulling out the diaries and all but slamming them onto the table. “Who should we start with?”

Eddie picked up a chip and pointed it at Bev. “We can don two at one time.”

“You do one, I do one?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said.

So they pooled out the diaries on the table, Bev dropping her pens down and Eddie finding a long lost pencil in the side of his bag.

Dear Bill,  
Thank you for being you! Oh hell, this is cheesy already and Eddie is laughing next to me but remember that you’re one of the strongest people I know, and don’t ever give up!  
Love from Bev xxx

Dear Bill,  
Before Whitemore, I thought it was impossible to be knocked down and stand up again. You proved me so wrong. Stay standing, Big Bill, because you cannot fall. Actually, I think your feet are kind of stuck to the ground to prevent you. (Bev is giving me a weird look so I’ll stop now)  
Love from Eddie

Dear Ben,  
To start off, you mean so much to me!! You’re always so positive and you never give up on what you think, which can prove tough sometimes. Stay awesome!  
Love Bev xx

Dear Ben,  
I remember first seeing you and thinking that you were shy. Well, you have soooo much to say, and after knowing you it’s clear you’re a lot more confident than you think! This is turning into a life lesson, so I’ll end it now, but Ben Hanscom, you are stronger than you think.  
Love Eddie

Dear Mike  
You tell the best stories, yanno. So I’ll try to tell a story here: Once there was a sad girl called Beverly Marsh who went to a boarding school and met some friends and one of them was called Mike Hanlon and he was the purest, loveliest, most brilliant person on the earth!  
Love from Bev xx

Dear Mike,  
You are one in a kind. You’re nice and soft but you can kick some serious ass if you wanted to (Bev just hit me because we’re not meant to cuss in these so my apologies!). So Mike, you rock and I hope you have a great Christmas!  
Love Eddie

Dear Richie,  
You’re loud and over excited and I hope you never change! Out of all the people I’ve met, the best way to describe you would be a burst of colour on a blank canvas. Never ever ever change, okay?  
Love Bev xx

Dear Richie,  
There’s so many things I could say but whenever I think of you I’ll probably always think off music and happiness and laugher. You mean a lot to me and I don’t know where I’d be without you.  
Love Eds (See, I even used your stupid nickname!!)

Dear Stan the Man,  
I don’t know much about your past but I know what you’re like now. I know you’re an amazing swimmer who’s going to win all the tournaments he enters. I know you’re an amazing and kind supportive friend. And I know I’ll cry if I ever l lose you! Eddie just threw a chip at me for being “too cheesy” but I mean it!!  
Love Bev xx p.s sorry if this page smells like chips, it’s Eddie’s fault really.

Dear Stan,  
It’s really nice to see you so happy again! You’re such a sweet and funny person and just know I love you to the sun and back. Please do not!! change ever, because I think I’d have to hold a funeral for sarcastic Stan.  
Love Eddie

“I think we’re done.” Eddie said, snapping closed the book he was on.

“I hope they like them.” Bev said.

“If they don’t we have full reason to push them from North Tower.” Eddie said and giggled.

“Well, it seems to have stopped snowing.” Bev said. “Come on, let’s try and find those secret Santa gifts.”

So Eddie and Bev walked out of the fish and chips shop with their arms linked and a bag full of diaries.

And Eddie didn’t think of Derry once.

 

**Beverly Marsh, heading back to Whitemore boarding school**

“So, dare I ask how our half has been?” Bev asked as she and Eddie made their way back into Whitemore.

“Not much different. Always fighting.” Eddie said. “But we need to tell them or it will get a lot worse.”

They walked back to their common room, arms linked, enjoying the probably last moments of peace and quiet before entering the storm of which was their common room.

“I just hope they believe me. What if they think I’m making it up just so they stop fighting?” Bev asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous for the first time in a while of what people would say.

“Trust me, if they were to believe anyone it would be you. Imagine Richie saying it, no one would bat an eyelid.” Eddie chuckled.

“You would.” Bev muttered to herself.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” She smirked. “But maybe I should just tell the losers first, once they understand they could help.”

“Am I not good enough for you?” Eddie gasped, acting putting his hand to his heart.

“You will never not be enough for me, Eddie.” Bev nudged him. “But everybody believes Ben and Mike and all so getting them to help would definitely be useful.”

“You’re making it sound like some sort of case in court.” Eddie laughed, pushing the door to east and north’s tower open.

“Might as well be.” Bev grinned. She sighed, she just wanted everybody to get along again. Without having the job of hearing everybody cut her off every two seconds to disagree on what she had to say.

“You ok?” Eddie hauled himself up the staircase, Bev following shorty behind.

“Yeah, it’s just annoying, you know?” Beverly replied. “It’s just, why would south and west do it? They said the war was over, and besides what made them hate us so much to draw our towers into conflict? We haven’t even been here half a year yet.”

“It’s an unwritten rule that the two half’s have to hate eachother apparently.” Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah well they aren’t gonna get away with it, that’s for sure.” Bev said as they opened the door to the common room. Well tried to, as soon as Bev placed a fingertip on the handle, it swung wide open with Eric and Blake going out with it. “Hey woah where are you going?”

“Outside.” Eric turned to face them.

“Why?” Eddie asked.

“Because Ben is trying to reason with East’s reason and we have heard enough.” Blake rolled his eyes and two trailed round the corner and down the stairs.

“This is the last thing we need.” Beverly groaned.

“You’re back then, took you long enough.” Richie looked up from his math homework that he was clearly not doing.

“Be quiet Richie.” Bev took a seat by the roaring fire place, warming herself up. “I have something to tell you guys.”

“If it’s a-a-about east, we d-d-duh-d-don’t wanna hear it.” Bill didn’t look up from his book.

“Just hear her out.” Eddie said calmly. “You’re gonna want to hear this.”

“What is it?” Mike questioned.

“Well, when I left the common room a couple days ago,” She started.

“Wait when did you leave the common room?” Stan said.

“Shh.” Said Eddie.

“I went to investigate at South and West’s tower.” Bev continued. “Something wasn’t sitting right so-“

“Was it that meat loaf? Because it didn’t feel right with me either.” Richie shook his head.

“Wha- no! Ew.” Bev scrunched her nose.

“I could’ve happily gone my whole life without that information.” Ben said flatly.

“Anyway, I went to see if i could find any evidence, not sure what type but just something that screamed ‘they did it’.” Bev said.

“So you think they were the ones who told on us?” Ben asked.

“I don’t think, I know.” Beverly smiled. “I over heard them say ‘they wouldn’t be smart enough to figure out it was us’ or something on the lines of that.”

“That could mean anything, they’ve done a lot of things to us that we probably figured out yet.” Mike reasoned.

“I s-s-swear if they h-hid my slipper again I w-w-will-!” Bill groaned.

“Oh and I also heard them talk about the English homework and-“

“Fuck I forgot about that, when’s that for?” Richie asked anyone who was willing to answer and not get annoyed at him.

“Soon I think.” Stan said thoughtfully.

“Guys!” Bev snapped everybody’s attention back to her. “They were talking about the English homework and they were saying how they wished it were story writing so they could call it ‘the right one framed, or was it?’ Or ‘it was them, or so they thought’ or something like that.”

There was silence for a moment before Bill spoke up. “It is a b-b-bit of a c-c-coincidence.”

“Not a coincidence! They did it and that’s the proof!” Bev said.

“Yeah that would seem highly doubtful that they were talking about it on the off chance.” Ben leaned forward in his seat. “But when Mrs Wilkins came to take us out of math they showed no sign of recognition on there face.”

“You think they can’t act?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know it seems like the only things they can do are tear towers apart and drop them in a war.” Ben shrugged.

“Well I say they did it, it’s definitely something they’d do anyway.” Stan said, sounding unimpressed.

“But one of south came in and gave Greta her hair and back, meaning she was with them at some point.” Richie said.

“That was part of their plan, to frame Greta! They new that we weren’t that fond of Greta so they made us think it was her.” Bev answered Richie.

“That makes a lot of sense.” Mike nodded slowly.

“Well shit does that mean I have to apologise for yelling at her now?” Richie despaired.

“I think we all owe her an apology, as much as I don’t want to.” Bev said.

“I think we all don’t want to.” Ben chuckled.

“I guess I should find everybody and hoax them back in here.” Bev shifted in her seat. “But thanks guys, really.”

“F-f-for what?” Bill asked.

“For actually believing me.” She shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Stan mused.

“I don’t know, I guess after everything, north and east were split apart and everyone was so set on it, I just assumed no one would believe me.” Bev looked down slightly.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Richie chuckled. “What made you think that just because we disliked east, made us any less friends with you?”

“Richie’s right, for once, we would never distrust you.” Eddie smiled at her.

“Thanks guys.” Bev really appreciated all of them so much in that moment. What did Beverly do to get her such amazing friends? She would never really know but she just had to make the most of every moment they were together.

She would make sure of it.

**Stan Uris, waiting in the common room**

After about ten minutes of waiting, Bev finally returned with an unwilling looking east tower dragging their heels behind them.

“No I’m sorry I don’t wanna be here right now-“ Greta started backing out of the room.

“Be quiet. Get in here, now.” Bev didn’t even turn around to face her. Stan understood why she wouldn’t want to be in the same room as the boys who accused her of something she didn’t do, but she needed to find out the truth. They all did. “Did you find Blake and Eric?”

“We were meant to get Blake and Eric?” Eddie asked.

“Uh Yeah? They need to know as well.” She turned to look at them all.

“We aren’t mind readers.” Stan pointed out.

“I expected you’d show some initiative.” Bev mumbled.

“God y-you sound like o-ou-our English t-t-tuh-t-teacher.” Bill rolled his eyes.

“I’ll find them.” Mike got up, walking to the door. Just as he placed his hand on the door, it opened. Stan assumed that’s how Bev and Eddie felt when it happened to them.

Two stone cold looking teenagers came shivering into the room, almost running to the fire place.

“What happened to you?” Richie smirked.

“Well let’s j-just say wear a coat outside w-when it snows.” Blake stuttered, leaning in close to the fire. “Hey what are they doing in here?”

“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten but this is our common room as well.” Chloe raised her voice.

“Guys stop fighting I need to tell you something.” Bev yelled over the squabbling.

Eric folded his arms and rolled his eyes, not liking the fact he was being told what to do for once.

“Ok so.” Bev told her story of what happened, making sure to keep details in and make the teens believe her. Stan admired Bev. He did. She was always so brave and care free all the time, like there wasn’t a stress in the world. He wished he could have the mindset that she had. His life would be a whole lot easier, Stan thought.

“So Ben was right, the whole time.” Buffy said slowly. “I guess we owe you all an apology.”

“I hate those little shits with all my heart, we have- need to get them back.” Chloe’s cheeks began to turn a shade of crimson in anger.

“Yeah, Buffy’s right, we are sorry guys.” Emily smiled sadly.

“You shouldn’t be apologising, we should be the ones saying sorry to you guys, we accused Greta wrongly and you were just backing her up.” Mike said calmly.

“I agree with Mike, you all owe me an apology.” Greta said, flicking her hair behind her back.

“This is no time for your smugness Greta.” Beverly rolled her eyes. “I’m just glad we know the truth now.”

“I still don’t know if I believe you, Beverly Marsh, for all we know you could be making it up.” Eric had regained some confidence and rose to Bev’s height.

“If you’re trying to be intimidating, I suggest you try a little harder next time.” Bev laughed sourly, pushing his head away from hers.

“Eric pipe down she’s telling the truth, I would know, she’s a terrible liar.” Eddie giggled.

“Hey!” She laughed, sweetly this time though.

“So, are we all good now?” Ben asked the common room.

“I think Richie Tozier still owes me an apology.” Greta muttered.

“I think you should be a little more patient.” Richie raised his eyebrows at Greta. “Because you were just about to get one.”

“Why thank you, I’m truly honoured.” Greta deadpanned.

“I said about to get one, that doesn’t mean you’re gonna get one now-“

“Richie.” Bev warned.

“Ok ok,” Richie held his hands up in defence. “Greta, I could be more sorry, but I do apologise for accusing you for something you didn’t do. There, happy Beverly?” Bev nodded, grinning.

“Are we good now?” Ben repeated once again. The whole common room either nodded or replied with a ‘yes’. Or in Richie’s case: ‘he’ll to the yes I guess’.

Of course Stan was delighted at the fact their two towers were now reunited, but the gnawing feeling of not knowing what south and west are going to do next couldn’t leave Stan alone. Which was why they needed to get them back. What ever way that may be.

And fast.

 

 **Ben Hanscom, at the top of North Tower**  
Whitemore, in the winter, could of easily been a Christmas card.

The castle was covered in snow and the trees around them had dainty icicles hanging from their branches. The pool was completely frozen over, the light reflecting off it.

Ben had thought about all  
of this when he returned from the town, Richie’s secret santa present clutched in his hand. The school had looked magical, up on the hill, and if Ben had been any good a drawing he felt sure he would of sketched it.

But his talents laid outside of art, so Ben had just taken in the moment best he could.

It was later now, and even though the air was still cold, the snow had almost stopped falling completely. In the moonlight, it looked like a blur of white on the grass and trees. From Ben’s point of view, anyway.

He was up top North Tower, with the rest of the Losers. Bill had opened the trap door to the roof, and they’d all clambered onto it.

It had been ten minutes, and Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so calm.

They were all watching the stars together, huddled close as to not keep warm. Ben noted that, even in the middle of Winter, Eddie was still wearing shorts.

He looked back up at the stars and named the constellations in his head.

Some people said that looking up at the stars made them feel small, but Ben didn’t feel that way. If anything, the stars made him feel big. Special. Like he was actually apart of something.

Like he mattered.

And looking at the stars right then, with everyone around him, Ben had never felt like he was more apart of something.

“Before Whitemore, did you guys ever feel alone?” Ben asked suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud but quiet and gently.

Someone on his right shifted.

“What do you mean?” Stan asked quietly. “No friends alone or-?”

“Just alone.” Ben replied.

“For sure.” Bev said, and gave a soft laugh. “I had literally no one to talk to. And everyday sucked ass for me, so yeah, I felt pretty alone.”

Ben felt like putting his arm around her or something similar, just to comfort her, but Eddie beat him to it.

“Same here.” Eddie said, resting his head on Bev’s shoulder. “In fact, every time I think back to Derry I just feel lonely. I don’t even-“

He stopped himself and shook his head, muttering a quiet “Never mind” as he did so.

“I was never lonely.” Mike said. He was laying on his back, eyes closed. “I didn’t really have any friends either, which you could say was weird. But I had my parents, see. They were everything to me. Hell, they still are. My Dad would take me to places and every Summer we’d drive his tractor together. And my Mum’s amazing too. She always told jokes and would take care of me. I miss them, but I write every week and they’re visiting over Christmas so I’ll see them soon.”

There was brief silence after Mike had finished talking.

“I’m completely different.” Richie spoke up. “I had friends but was lonely.”

“Were they shitty friends or something?” Mike asked, opening on eye.

“Could say that.” Richie said.

Ben waited for him to continue but he didn’t say any more.

“I’m n-not sh-sh-sure if I w-w-was l-lo-lonely.” Bill said quietly. “B-be-before ju-ju-ju-geor-m-my b-b-bru-brother w-went mu-mu-missing, I w-was p-p-pr-pretty h-happy. I h-had s-so-some friends, tu-too. But a-a-after... y-y-yanno, I w-was definitely l-l-lon-lonely. I h-h-has no-one t-to t-t-talk to. S-so, I r-ro-rode my bu-bu-bike down t-the road. S-s-silver.”

“Any good?” Eddie asked.

“I c-c-could ride s-straight down t-this hill and into t-the main road without d-dying, so pretty g-good.”

“I’d love a bike.” Eddie said. “Not even to ride but to just look at. I had a small one at home, from when I was small-“

Richie snorted. “When.”

“And,” Eddie continued, “sometimes I’d just look at how it worked. The wheels spinning and that. I fixed it up a bunch of times. Got pretty good too. It was something to do, I guess. Couldn’t ever ride it though, it was tiny.”

The seven went quite again, looking up at the stars scattered everywhere. You forget about the cold after a while.

“I was lonely.” Stan said. “Very. School was a disaster and I had no friends but my parents were great. Dad took me birdwatching to the park when it was good, and when it was bad I went on my own.”

“You told me you bird-watched.” Mike said, turning so he was leaning on his arm. “Did you do it for long?”

“Yeah.” Stan said smiling. “It fascinates me. I’d watch them on this one particular bird bath through my binoculars. The way the moved, sort of fast but elegant. And the feathers were so beautiful. I had a book, a pretty old one, and I’d try to identify them. It was a hobby and I enjoyed it so I didn’t really think about my lack of friends. But my parents did so... they thought I should come here. They went when they were younger and said I’d enjoy it. Told me that if I didn’t I could come home at Christmas.”

“You going home?” Bev asked.

“What do you think?” Stan asked, eyes twinkling.

“What about you Ben?” Richie asked. “Were you laying in the depths of loneliness?”

Ben smiled slightly. “I’m not sure. I mean, I was lonely but I didn’t feel that way. Mum worked long hours and I didn’t have any friends so I’d spent a lot of time by myself. But it didn’t even cross my mind that I was lonely. I wasn’t even sad or anything. I’d keep myself company and go to the library so it didn’t feel that way. But I guess I was lonely. And I-“

Ben surprised himself when he felt the tear falling down his face. He wiped it away quickly, trying not to draw attention to himself.

“I don’t know. I was bullied real bad, and after a while I just excepted it. Like I was Ben Hanscom and I was always going to be bullied and that was that. Nothing I could really do about it. But maybe I was just trying to distract myself from the fact that I was alone. As soon as I came to Whitemore, I stopped faking. I just let the emptiness take over. But after meeting you guys-“ Ben looked around at them. “I really was missing out, huh?”

Eddie leaned awkwardly over Bev to hug him and Bev did too.

“I think we were all missing out.” Stan said. “Like we were somehow meant for each other.”

Eddie and Bev broke apart and Ben blinked back tears aggressively.

“Like s-s-soulm-mates?” Bill asked, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Yeah.” Stan said. He stood up, his figure outlined in the moonlight. “Like when we were created there was space left in each one of our hearts, a space that could only be filled by each other. And when we meet they did. And now we’re complete.”

Mike let a low laugh but it wasn’t the judgmental kind. It was more of a shocked happy kind.

“Didn’t take you for the romantic kind.” Richie said, though Ben though he sounded graver than usual.

“I’m not.” Stan said honestly. “I’ve just never felt this way before. This whole before. And I can’t believe we just meet on a off chance.”

“I think you’re right.” Ben said quietly. “I don’t know why we meet. Faith or coincidence or something like that. But we all met for a reason. We’re all here for a reason.”

Ben didn’t even know what he meant by ‘here’. If he meant Whitemore or genuinely here here, on the earth.

“I’ve never been the touchy feely kind of person.” Ben continued. “But I love you guys. I really do.”

Bill gave a small cheer and Ben felt his heart swell with happiness. He loved them and they loved him and it wouldn’t have it any other way.

He didn’t want to be back at his old home anymore. And all the pain that was there, all the pain Ben had been through was forgotten in that moment.

You forget the cold after a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sksksk we love some good old loser club depression  
> anyway this is something me and Alice thought we should make clear;  
> The Losers will be at Whitemore for five years. For each year there will be a new fic (book??AU?? idk what to call it). It will follow them at Whitemore but we just thought it would be easier to keep it organised that way. The romances will still happen (through this book too!) and the kisses will probably happen in their second year, so the second fic which is already planned out. comment any questions!!


	15. Merry Christmas Everyone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just another break from the drama :)

**Richie Tozier, waking up on Christmas day**

Richie couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy on Christmas morning.

He woke up to the smell of pine needles sprinkled over the floor of his dorm from when they decorated the place. He smelt the gentle burn of candle wax from which Stan lit the night earlier claiming ‘it should be illegal to have to wake up to a disgusting smell any day let alone the day you guys celebrate as Christmas’ and Richie couldn’t agree more.

“You alright, Richie?” Mike rubbed his eyes as he leaned up to look at Richie, who was sitting slumped in his bed, staring into space.

“Never been better, me ol’ mate.” Richie pretended to take a cap off and place it back on his head. He wasn’t even lying, this was probably the best he’s ever felt.

Mike smiled. “Merry Christmas guys, Sorry Stan.”

“It’s fine.” Stan mumbled, styling his shirt in the mirror.

“You’re up mighty early, Stanley.” Richie yawned, flopping back down in his bed.

“I’m always up early, you’re just never awake to see it.” Stan shrugged.

“That, my friend, is indeed correct.” He laughed.

“C-c-c-can you guys be qu-qu-quiet? I’m t-t-t-trying to get my last b-buh-b-bit of peace a-a-a-and quiet before Christmas spirit c-c-cuh-c-comes and slaps me in the f-face.” Bill groaned, shoving a pillow on top of his head.

“What’s up with you, grumpy pants.” Eddie chuckled. “Don’t like Christmas?”

“That makes two of us.” Stan muttered.

“Well, th-th-this is my s-s-second Christmas without Georgie, a-a-a-and I guess I s-s-still m-miss him.” Bill’s muffled voice replied.

“Shut up guys, we are tired.” Blake said slowly, just braking out of his sleep.

“How about you Shut up? Or just leave if you wanna be a grinch faced fuck.” Richie retorted quickly, leaving Blake to turn to the other side of his bed.

“Well, lets not dwell on the past.” Ben returned to the conversation, trying to lighten the subject. “Besides, Christmas is a time of cheer.”

“And giving presents.” Eddie added. “Oh! And speaking of, we need to do our secret Santa soon.”

“Should we do it before or after breakfast?” Mike asked.

“After.” Eric and Blake both said in unison.

“Let’s do it before.” Richie winked at the losers. Getting a groan from Blake and Eric in return.

“I’ll get Bev.” Bill and Ben both said.

“G-g-g-guess we’ll both get h-h-her.” Bill smiled at Ben, who returned a, slightly weaker, smile, Richie noticed.

Once Bill and Ben left, Eric and Blake left a few seconds after, telling the rest they ‘couldn’t be bothered to sit quietly listening to something they weren’t involved in’.

“So Eds-“ Richie was cut off.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Come on! It’s Christmas!” Richie grinned, not giving up on attempting to make Eddie smile.

“Doesn’t change whether I like the name or not.” Eddie picked at his duvet. “In fact, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m surprised you can stand after what we did last ni-“

“That’s enough of that!” Stan cut in before Richie could ruin everybody’s Christmas morning. Eddie took a swipe at Richie, but failed and ended up leaning off his bed to far and nearly falling off before Richie nudged him back up.

“I know you can do better then that, spaghetti head.” Richie smirked.

“Spaghetti head? Promise me that isn’t your new nickname for me, I would literally rather you called me Eds” Eddie hid a grin, laying faced down on his bed.

“I can’t promise anything.” Richie laughed, causing Eddie to chuck his pillow at Richie’s face.

“Woah what’d I miss.” Bev strolled in through the door, smiling at the scene she’d just walked into, Bill and Ben following her in closely behind.

“Oh you know, Eds and I were just doing the usual practice for our nights ou-“

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie shouted.

“Beep beep Richie? Is that your way of pay back?” Richie chuckled.

“Ok ok! Guys! Lets start the secret Santa!” Mike yelled over Richie and Eddie.

“Bev, you brought the presents right?” Eddie asked, nodding subtly.

“Sure did.” She winked at him, pulling out a dozen of presents from what seemed like thin air.

“Woah woah woah! Who’s the lucky one?” Richie examined the pile of rectangular shaped presents sitting in her hand.

“They are for all of you, from me and Eddie.” She passed them out to all of them. Richie ripped the neatly wrapped wrapping paper off and was greeted with a navy coloured booklet.

“Ooh.” Richie looked at the cover. “This it?”

“You ungrateful- no it isn’t it.” Eddie rolled his eyes and walked over to sit beside Richie on his bed. “Open the front cover.”

“I swear if y-y-you’ve drawn something I-i-in it...”Bill trailed off as he opened the first page.

“We aren’t Richie, we wouldn’t do something like that.” Bev laughed as Richie flipped her off.

Richie wouldn’t have been totally shocked if a tear fell from his cheek in that very moment. He read both messages from Bev and Eddie with a massive smile plastered to his face, laughing slightly when he read Eddie’s last remark.

“Aw, thanks guys.” Ben smiled at the two.

“Yeah, How did you come up with such a nice idea?” Mike asked them.

“It was Bev’s idea really, I just helped write it.” Eddie smiled at Beverly, giving her a fist pump.

“I’ve n-n-never felt m-more ap-a-aprec-ap-appreciated in m-m-my life.” Bill stared at the messages in his book.

“You just made this day a whole lot more bearable.” Stan looked around the room at the smiling losers.

“Well let’s give our presents out then!” Richie reached over the other side of his bed, leaning down to get his scruffily wrapped present.

“Should we just give away who we got or not?” Bev asked.

“Let’s Just give them out.” Richie shrugged, handing his present to Eddie.

“You got me?” He asked, taking his gift.

“Sure did Eds, Sorry by the way, I’ve learnt I cannot wrap for the life of me.” Richie laughed apologetically.

Once all the presents were given out, they opened their presents one by one.

“I’ll go first.” Ben smiled, already ripping open the present. Richie didn’t think Ben’s smile could grow any wider, but he was wrong.

“What is it?” Bev asked.

“A ‘Calligraphy: Learn and love it!’ Book!” Ben looked over to Mike. “How did you know?”

“I remember you telling me, I guess it just stuck.” Mike smiled back.

“Well, Thank you so much!” Ben got up and hugged Mike.

Next was Mike’s turn, Bev got him a personal Michael Jackson CD, to which sparked a memory in Richie’s head of how he and Eddie were meant to pay that girl back like two weeks ago, but nothing was said so he gave up on worrying about it, Eddie had seemed to as well.

Then it was Bev’s turn, Bill got her lip balm and shower gel.

“Are you trying to tell me something?!” Bev faked being hurt.

“Of course not.” Bill laughed. Richie looked over to Ben who seemed to be not paying too much attention to the conversation. Emphasise on seemed though.

After that was Bill’s turn, Stan got him some hair gel.

“I’ve noticed you always seem to be manoeuvring your hair out of your eyes, so I thought this would help.” Stan smiled.

Then it was Stan, Eddie got him a new ‘dashing’ (as Eddie called it) tie.

“The school won’t let me wear this.” Stan shook his head.

“One step ahead of you, you can turn the fabric inside out to return to our normal school tie during the day, and you can turn it back for dinner time at night.” Eddie crossed his legs on the bed, pretending to flick his hair behind his ear.

Then it was Eddie’s turn. Richie prayed to every god out there he would like the present. He just wanted to make him happy.

“Struggling there Eddie?” Bev laughed at Eddie who was trying to rip through the sellotape-smothered present.

“I’m surprised there is any sellotape left.” Eddie sighed, chuckling lightly.

“There wasn’t.” Richie laughed.

“That explains why I had to ask Matron for more.” Stan rolled his eyes.

Once Eddie had got into the present, he smiled. “You knew then.”

“Of course.” Richie smiled at the present he’d bought Eddie. It was the other book that Eddie had been staring at when they were at the library. He was so grateful for Mike for the book he bought him, but Richie new one book wouldn’t last him for long, so he used initiative.

“I can’t believe you remembered.” He said quietly, looking at the book that read ‘BFG’.

“Course i’d remember.” Richie nudged Eddie, tenderly.

“Thank you, Richie.” Eddie looked into Richie’s eyes, him staring back before Bev snapped them back to reality.

“It’s time for Richie’s present. Hello? Guys?”

Ben got up to give Richie his present.

“If you give me a pack of condoms, I won’t be sa-“

“Be quiet Richie.” Ben shook his head, laughing. Richie took the present and tore it open.

“HA new glasses! These were getting a little out dated not gonna lie. How did you know my size?” He asked Ben.

“Oh it was easy, I just went for this biggest size.” Ben said, making them all laugh.

“Well, that was successful.” Mike smiled at them all.

“I’m looking forward to how the rest of the day will pan out if this is how it’s gonna start.” Bev nodded.

In that moment in time, Richie couldn’t be happier, and he told himself that he had to make the most of Christmas Day. With all of his friends. Real friends.

Now that was a promise he could keep.

 

**Mike Hanlon, waiting to go into the Drama Hall**

“Do they ever actually use the air conditioner?” Stan asked, twisting his head around as if expecting to see one appear suddenly.

“Apparently not.” Mike said, back against the wall, shivering slightly. Mrs Henderson had told them early on that they needed to be outside the drama hall for half ten and Mike was seriously regretting not putting a jumper on.

“You’re all over reacting.” Eddie said. “It isn’t even that cold.”

“Yes but Eddie you manage to wear shorts almost every day of your life.” Ben said, hugging himself.

“Because it isn’t cold!”

“Du-du-dude i-it’s f-f-fre-freezing!” Bill said, looking out the window and giving it a sour look.

“You haven’t been in my apartment over winter then.” Bev said. “It’s so cold we had to wear coats inside at one point. But I lived there for so long I’m use to it now.”

“Well I’ll be sure to visit you and Eddie when you both live in Antarctica.” Richie mumbled.

Mike gave a small laugh and turned his head to start up the line. East (apart from Bev) were queued up in-front of North, West and South at the beginning of the line.

All first years were waiting to be let into the drama hall, to see the pantomime put on by the second years. Chloe had said it was a Christmas tradition at Whitemore and apparently they tried to add in as many jokes as possible. In fact, according to Chloe’s sister, last year the teachers hadn’t even read the script.

Mike hadn’t experienced anything like Whitemore Christmas. Everything was so happy and bright and positive. In fact, South and West had even wished them a Merry Christmas at breakfast, which made Mike choke on his toast.

And he’d get to see his parents later. As much fun as Mike was having, he didn’t think anything would top seeing his Mum and Dad.

“Can the first years please enter the hall SENSIBLY!” The crisp voice of Matron called, and chatter broke out again.

“F-f-fine-finally!” Bill said. “I th-th-thought we’d b-be h-here tu-tu-till next Cu-cu-chris-christmas.”

The line began to trail in, and Mike half walked half fell into the drama hall.

The large stage was at the far end, curtains drawn shut. Blue chairs were in lines, and Mike was sat with Stan on his right and Eddie on his left.

“How old do you think this is?” Ben whispered from somewhere on Mike’s right.

“Why’d you always ask questions like that?” Richie asked. “Are you trying to ruin the mood.”

“I’m trying to ask a question about the beauty and interest in history.” Ben said.

“There’s more beauty and interest in your Mum-“

A loud groan went up from all of Losers, and then a loud ‘shh!’ from someone behind them.

“What do you think will be playing?” Mike asked, staring at the curtains intensely.

“Classic, most likely.” Richie said. “They always make a bang when performed. Plus you can’t go wrong with legionary plays.”

“Unless they screw it up.” Stan said.

“And if that happens, Stanley, then I shall leave this room in a rage.”

“You know almost as much about theatre as you do about music.” Eddie said. Richie pinched his cheek and Eddie swatted his hand away.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” A voice called over, and Mike looked up to see Mrs Wilson standing at the centre of the stage.

“It’s my upmost pleasure to introduce the second years performance of Peter Pan!”

A cheer went up and Mike grinned. Him Mum had read Peter Pan to him since he was six, and no matter where he was, it always brought a rush of nostalgia back.

The curtains drew back and the teens were exposed to a dark stage. A second year in a dark, draping cloak was in the centre of the stage, large book in hands.

She shook her cloak in a fast manner and a few people laughed.

“Hello Children in the audience!” She cried dramatically, throwing her arms out. “We are all so thrilled that you’re all here independently and without any instructions from your form tutors.”

Another ripple of laugh went up.

“Now, don’t worry, this isn’t going to be some lame play you may be expecting. In fact, we twerked the script after the final proofread-“

A large cheer went up at this, and Mrs Wilson (who was standing at the bottom of the stage) shook her head.

“So, let’s all join together to watch the story of... Peter Pan!”

Three second years dressed up to be Wendy, John and Michael Darling entered the stage. They stood still very gravelly and Mike cocked his head to one side.

They stood like that for a few seconds before loud rap music blasted out the speakers.

They all started rapping a song and a large cheer went off. By the end of the song, Mike didn’t think he’d ever laughed so hard in his life.

The whole performance was amazing, and Mike at a stitch by the end of his. His cheeks ached from laughing so much.

The lights snapped off for the interval and immediate talk went up.

“Genius.” Richie said. “Pure genius.”

“We get to do this next year?” Ben asked, eyeing the stage with wonder.

“I hope so.” Bev said. “Can you imagine? It would be a blast.”

Five minutes later the curtains rose again. The stage had be redone to look like Neverland, with smoke gently rolling across the stage.

(i’m so sick idk half the stuff i’m writing skksks)

“Welcome back.” The clocked girl said. “We’ve all missed you greatly. Now-“

“Who are you talking to?” The girl playing Wendy asked the Narrator.

“The audience.” The girl replied.

The three Darlings’ looked at the audience then all burst out laughing.

Mike cracked up too, distantly hearing Richie say; “Breaking the fourth wall, I say-“

Ten minutes later and Peter Pan was on Captain Hook’s ship. There was suspenseful music humming in the background.

“I see we’ve lured you successfully, Peter.” Hook said lowly.

“You didn’t lure me anywhere.” Peter said. “It’s a stage, there’s only so much space.”

A laugh from the audience and Hook leaped onto a deck.

“Cannons away!” He screamed.

A gaggle of pirates on the boat lunges water balloons at the audience. On landed right between Mike and Eddie and exploded, drenching them both.

Eddie squealed loudly and broke out laughed, water dripping from his hair.

Behind him, Greta had also got a fair share of water. But instead of breaking down about her hair, she laughed.

“A-am I s-s-seeing th-th-things c-c-cor-correctly?” Bill asked.

Mike shook his head and let the war fly off his hair in drops.

“Mike I will murder you!” Stan said, dodging the water.

The play was beyond excellent and Mike was sad when they said their final lines and the curtains closed once more.

“That was some talent I was not expecting.” Ben said.

All in all, this was a Christmas Mike wasn’t expecting.

And it had only just started.

 

**Bill Denbrough, waiting in the dinner line**

The seven made their way to the dining hall, chatting about the play they had recently witnessed and the food yet to come.

“I’m actually pretty excited for the Christmas lunch.” Eddie stated.

“Woah. You, Eddie Kaspbrak, are excited for school canteen food?” Bev asked, looking genuinely shocked.

“N-n-never though I’d s-s-suh-s-see the day.” Bill shook his head.

“Well I mean since it’s Christmas they might make a little more effort then they usually do.” Eddie shrugged.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high.” Stan muttered.

They got into the mile long lunch queue line and Bill though his stomach might just implode in on him because he was that hungry. They weren’t allowed to have more then two servings of breakfast that day because otherwise the lunch would ‘go to waste from children not eating it’.

“Should we just sneak to the front? I honestly don’t think i’ll last until we get to the front of the queue.” Richie groaned, leaning his head on the wall.

“You know what hungry school kids are like, they’ll beat us up.” Ben said, standing on his tip toes to see where the line ended. In conclusion, there wasn’t an end, he said.

“Is a-a-any-an-anybo-anybody actually m-m-m-moving?” Bill asked. He’d never usually have to wait this long for a Christmas meal. In his old school they’d just be placed on trays ready to be picked up straight away, no one would have to wait for them to actually serve it.

A few minutes later the line started to move, at snail speed might I add, but it was better than nothing, Bill thought to himself.

“Ah so these kids do know how to walk after all. Huh.” Richie said loudly, getting a few scowls from other kids in response.

“Is this what happens every Christmas at school then?” Mike asked, taking in the surroundings of what was happening.

“D-d-di-didn’t at my o-o-old school.” Bill said.

“Yeah usually, but it’s generally worth the wait.” Bev replied.

“Better be.” Stan mumbled.

The line moved a few more paces and Bill could now finally see where the line ended.

“Well at least we are actually in the cafeteria now and not the hallway.” Ben said cheerfully.

“Fuck it I’m just gonna go to the front, see you guys later!” Richie started to walk off when he was hauled back by Bev and Stan.

“Nope you aren’t leaving.” Bev said. “You have to suffer just like everybody else.”

Richie rolled his eyes and stayed quiet at the back of the line. Probably mapping out a way to get food quicker, Bill guessed.

“Harsh Bev, harsh.” Eddie chuckled, resting his arm on her shoulder.

“I swear to all the gods out there, if this food sucks, then I’m telling them cooks to suck their mo-“

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie cut him off.

“Will people ever actually let me finish my sentences?” Richie questioned.

“Will you ever stop making inappropriate sentences?” Stan retorted.

“Touché Stan the man, touché.” Richie smirked.

The line inched forward a couple more spaces, the seven could actually fit behind the bollards of the queue now. The smell of freshly cooked turkey and lightly salted roast potatoes and thyme smelling stuffing balls filled Bill’s senses, making him ten times more hungry than he already was.

“This is it. I’m gonna expire. I’m never going to see the light of tomorrow. Goodbye fellow friends, we shall meet again in another life.” Richie sighed dramatically.

“Actually, you can go without food for around 20 days, and you just ate this morning, so really we are all overreacting a bit.” Ben said, reciting what they’d learnt in a recent science lesson.

“Honestly, that’s still not gonna stop me from groaning about it.” Bev chuckled, leaning into Ben giving him a slight nudge. Bill didn’t actually know why but he felt like he needed to look away at this moment.

“Th-th-the only one h-h-hear who’s s-sorta allowed to moan i-i-is Mike.” Bill looked at him. “And h-h-he’s the o-only one who i-isn’t.”

They were finally at the spot were they could get trays and start being served up the dinner. Richie has yeeted past all of them to get to the front, but no one seemed to really care about it.

Once they had finally gotten their food, they went to their usual table (luckily no one had taken it) and sat down to eat. Richie had already eaten over half of his before they even sat down.

“This actually isn’t that bad.” Stan grinned, stuffing a piece of broccoli in his mouth.

“Well i’ll be damned.” Bev laughed. “Stan Uris actually likes the canteen food.”

“I didn’t say I liked it, I said it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell if it was bad, I was that hungry everything tasted good.” Richie finally said after eating his whole meal in under five minutes.

“You’re gonna get sick from eating it that fast.” Eddie warned.

“It’s worth it.” Richie burped.

“G-g-g-gross.” Bill stuttered.

“Better out than in me ol’ friend.” Richie attempted a cockney accent. And failing.

“Hey! We should open the Crackers!” Bev said excitedly. So they did, Bill shared with Bev. It cracked open with a loud ‘pop’ and Bill let Bev take out the crown and wear  
It.

“Absolutely s-s-stunning, m-my queen.” Bill tried a posh British accent and winked, and he could’ve sworn he saw I dash of colour in Bev’s cheeks, but he shrugged it off since it was very warm in the room.

“Ooh! I got a joke! Shh shh let me read it.” Eddie squealed. He cleared his throat. “What does Santa suffer from when he gets stuck in a chimney?”

Everybody shrugged.

“I don’t know Eds, what does Santa suffer from when he gets stuck in a chimney?” Richie smiled.

“CLAUStrophibia!” Eddie shouted, breaking into laughter. The rest groaned but couldn’t hide their smiles, although they were mostly at Eddie’s reaction.

“You’re telling me you’d seriously rather these jokes than mine?” Richie asked, deadpanned. “That hurts.”

“Now now Richie, just because Eddie is a natural comedian-“ Bev grinned.

“He read it off a sheet of paper.” Richie grabbed Eddie’s hand and took the piece of paper out of it and held it up to Beverly’s face.

“But he did it well.” Mike teased.

“You know I expect it from the rest of you but Mike? That was a plot twist no one saw coming.” Richie faked putting a hand to his heart.

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, all of them chatting and laughing and actually having fun.

And the best thing of all, Bill hadn’t let his thoughts go to missing Georgie once.

 

 **Eddie kaspbrak, outside of Whitemore**  
Eddie followed the Losers onto the lawn, trailing their way around to a bench.

It was a while after dinner now, and people’s parents would be arriving soon.

Secretly, Eddie hoped his Mum wouldn’t come. But he knew better than to wish for something like that, and he was mentally preparing himself.

“What do you think we’ll do?” Ben asked. “When our parents come, that is. Will we show them around or something?”

“Dunno.” Richie said. “Mum and Dad went here so they’ll probably be interested in what’s changed.”

Eddie rubbed away at the frost on the table, trying not to panic. His heart was jumping around in his chest, stopping him from being able to breathe.

It had been months since he last used his aspirator. Months since he last used that placebo.

But he really couldn’t breathe.

“Eddie?” Bev asked quietly. “Are you okay.”

Eddie was about to nod when a loud cheer went out and everyone looked around.

Mrs Wilson was leading a cluster of parents over to the children. Eddie looked around in an attempt to see his mother. There was no such luck; she wasn’t in this crowed.

“The first parents have arrived!” Mrs Wilson called out. “If you see your parents, please come up now. The rest will hopefully arrive soon.” Without anymore explanation she began calling out the names of kids who’s parents had shown up.

Ben and Stan were called up, both looking happy to see their parents after this long of a time. Bill shifted awkwardly on the bench and Bill was suddenly very interested in the tree near their table.

“Your parents not coming?” Mike asked quietly.

“Can’t imagine my dad showing up, so my mum probably won’t either.” Bev said. Mike reached out and squeezed her hands.

Bill sniffed and didn’t say anymore, so Mike dropped the subject.

“Second set of parents!” Mrs Wilson cried. Eddie’s head snapped around, scanning the crowds desperately. Sure enough his mum was there, looking disgruntled next to another family.

“Maybe I’ll join you guys.” Eddie said, his heart speeding up again.

“Wu-wu-why?” Bill asked.

“I just don’t-“ Eddie said but Mrs Wilson called his name suddenly.

He got up and made his way swiftly to Mrs Wilson, Mike and Richie behind him.

“eDDIE BEARRRRR.” His mum called.

“Hey mum.” Eddie said, scraping his foot on the ground.

“Oh Eddie!” So is squealed, giving him a rib crushing hug.

While Eddie was nearly suffocating, he looked around at the other families.

Mike was animatedly talking to his parents, a huge smile on his face. Richie’s Mum was fussing over him, while his Dad smiled absentmindedly around. Richie swatted at his Mum and said something, grinning.

Eddie’s body tended and his mum broke their hug, placing her huge hands on his shoulders.

“How are you, Eddie?” She asked, searching his face. “You look pale. Very pale. And it’s cold Eddie, you know to wear wellies when it’s cold! Else the snow will melt and-“

“I know, Mum, I know.” Eddie said quickly, knowing he had to stop her talking before she had a full on rant. “How are you?”

“I hardly think that’s the question we should be asking right now.”

“Mum.”

“Well,” Sonia said, eyes darting around. “The trip was awful, train service was terribly slow. And it’s so loud here!”

She shook her head and Eddie didn’t feel there anymore. No, he felt like he was behind a window pane, watching everything from outside his body.

He was double and triple thinking every move. Don’t speak too fast. Don’t trip over your words. Don’t break eye contact talking.

And the whole time he just worried.

He remembered when he was back at Derry. How trapped he felt then. His mum’s homophobia had crushed him into someone he wasn’t, an outline of the son his mum wanted.

And at Whitemore he was so free. He only realised it as he led his mum through the corridor to the Art room but he was free.

He did worry about being gay like he use to. In fact, he had just been coming around to accepting himself. And he had laughed more times in the last months than he probably ever had.

He wasn’t going to let his mum ruin that. Not Christmas or Whitemore or him.

So he just had to stick his ground.

“That’s where I sit.” Eddie mumbled, pointing to the corner seats.

“I hope the paint you use is safe.” Sonia said worriedly. “The news we’re saying just the other days about allergies being on the rise. Actually, I should check with your teachers-“

“I’m fine.” Eddie said quietly.

“Don’t use that tone with me!” Sonia said. “I’m only looking out for you, Eddie.”

“I’m sorry-“ Eddie started, but his mum cut him off.

“You’ve change since I last saw you.” She said. “I thought you would. I never wanted you to come here. Oh Eddie, you’re so delicate, how can you possibly look after yourself? I shouldn’t of let you come, you’re obviously sick, very sick and-“

“Mum, please, I’m fine.” Eddie mumbled, his mother’s words suffocating him.

“No your not!” Sonia cried, a tear welling in her eye. “Won’t you come home with your mum? Would you do that for me, Eddie?”

Eddie knew what she was doing. Crying was what she did when she wanted to manipulate him into doing something, guilt-trip him.

“Just stand your ground.” He whispered forcefully.

“What was that, Eddie?” Sonia asked, leaning towards him. Her crying, Eddie noted, had completely stopped.

“I said-“ Eddie began, but was once again interrupted by the door swinging open.

“Eddie!” Stan said, smiling at him. His parents were behind him, both looking pleasantly happy.

“Hey Stan.” Eddie said, wishing that his mum wouldn’t ask questions.

“Is this one of your friends, Stan?” His father asked, giving Eddie a smile that calmed Eddie very slightly.

“Yeah.” Stan said. “Mum, Dad, this is Eddie.”

Eddie gave a nod, hearing his mum shuffle behind him.

“You must be his mother!” Stan’s mum said. She reached over and shook Sonia’s hand. “Andrea Uris, pleasure to meet you.”

Sonia mumbled something and Eddie thought that if he didn’t drag him mum out at that very moment, she might start taking.

And you never wanted Sonia Kaspbrak to start talking.

“I’ll see you around.” Eddie said quietly to Stan. He led his mum out the Art room, heading towards the dining hall.

“That’s your friend?” Sonia asked.

“Stan’s nice.” Eddie said. “He’s smart too.”

“Mmm.” Sonia hummed. “You know what I said about friends at home, Eddie? About how they lie?”

Something flashed through Eddie so quickly that he stood still.

The lies.

The placebos.

Then.

Now.

Home.

Whitemore.

Different.

Same.

“Eddie?” Sonia’s shrill voice cried, snapping Eddie out of his thoughts.

“I’m fine.”

“You look clammy!” Sonia said loudly, but Eddie could barely hear here.

Because he understood now.

Home isn’t where you once slept and once ate. It isn’t even where you live. Not where you were born, not where you’re meant to stay, not any of that.

Home is where your friends are. Where you feel yourself. Where you feel happy and yourself.

That’s what home was.

That’s what Whitemore was.

  

**Beverly Marsh, the common room**

“Come on guys, let’s do something, I’m bored and it’s not even late yet.” Bev paced around the common room, nudging everybody who seemed to be falling asleep.

“But this is the part of the day where Christmas spirit has worn off.” Eddie groaned into the couch pillow.

“My favourite part of the day actually.” Stan shrugged.

“I beg to differ, actually, Christmas spirit can never ware off on Christmas Day.” Bev replied, nearly tripping over Chloe’s leg that was sticking out in the middle of the floor.

“But I’m so tired.” Alison yawned. “We woke up early as it is.”

“Not compared to what time these losers came and got me up.” Bev nodded towards Ben and Bill.

“That explains where you were then.” Buffy glanced up.

“You guys can’t actually be serious right now.” Bev asked in disbelief.

“Never been more serious in my life, and that’s saying a lot.” Richie turned over in the couch to lay faced down. Bev just genuinely couldn’t believe how unexcited they all were. This was her first Christmas that she was enjoying for a long long time, and she planned on making the most of it. But these teens? All they wanted to do was sleep! Call her a toddler but Beverly Marsh was determined to get them all awake and enjoy the last few hours of Christmas.

She walked over to the coffee table that sat in the centre of the room, not caring if she ‘accidentally’ kicked someone in the head in the process. Bev stood up on the table and screamed as loudly and high as she could reach.

“Woah what the hell Bev?”

“Holy shit mother of fuckers we are being bombed-“ Richie jolted up.

“Are you ok?”

“Are you dying?”

“I call bullshi-“

“Ha! That got your attention.” Bev smiled. “Now, get off your lazy asses and lets actually do something.”

“Bev, as much as I’d love to have a threesome with you guy-“ Richie was cut off, thankfully.

“Beep be-“

“Beep beep Richie, I know Eds.”

“What do you actually want us to do Bev?” Greta scowled.

“I want you guys to get over yourselves and appreciate the fact it’s Christmas and we are spending it with one another!” Bev practically yelled in frustration. “Stop being teens for a minute and actually enjoy yourselves.”

“H-h-h-How Are W-we supposed t-to do that?” Bill asked.

“By playing games.” Bev grinned. “Specifically,” She walked over to the Christmas tree and picked up a big cardboard box that was labelled Karaoke: Sing along system. “This.”

“Hey that’s mine!” Emily frowned.

“Well when else were you gonna use it and with whom if you weren’t gonna let anyone else touch it?” Bev walked back over to the table and attempted to rip open the box.

“Fine, you can use it.” Emily shrugged, her head planting itself back into the chair arm again.

“We were going to anyway.” Bev smiled at her.

“No were weren’t, and we aren’t. Bev this is a terrible idea, you don’t know how bad I am at this.” Mike shook his head. “I sound like a dying velociraptor.”

“Don’t we all? This is just a little bit of fun guys lighten up.” Bev said. “Eddie? Can you chuck me some scissors please?”

“Richie, can you chuck Bev a pair of scissors?” Eddie mumbled.

“Stan, can you chuck Bev a pair of scissors?” Richie carried on.

“Ben can you-“

“I’ll just get them! It’s fine!” Bev strode up to the cupboard and returned to the box. “So what do you guys wanna sing?”

“Silence is better.” Richie deadpanned.

“Huh, never heard of that song before.” Once Bev had gotten the contents out of the box, she scanned the CDs. “Don’t think it’s in here either.”

“It’s because it’s not, I’m literally just telling you to shut up.”

“Oh my god guys.” Bev rolled her eyes. “I’m just trying to have a little fun and none of you are even trying, I don’t care if one person or all of you join me, just somebody loosen up a little?”

“I’ll join you.” Blake chuckled and walked to Bev.

“Blake?”

“The fuck?”

“Wait are you possessed? Oh my word he’s possessed! Someone get Matron-“

“I’m not possessed, just thought it would be fun.”

“Why thank you, Blake, at least somebody is willing to play!” Bev raised her voice slightly.

“Didn’t you like hate her this morning?” Eddie asked.

“No, and even if I did, Christmas is a time for forgiveness, right?” Blake smiled.

“Ok what the hell has happened to you?” Eric sat up, staring at Blake in utter confusion.

“Aren’t I allowed to have a little fun on Christmas?” Blake asked in return.

“Well yeah but you seem completely different to this morning.” Ben almost glared at him.

Blake ignored Ben and turned to Bev. “So, what songs do you wanna sing?” The whole room shared confused looks with each other, scrunching their eyebrows at the scene.

“Christmas?” Bev suggested.

“‘Tis the season.” Blake walked over to put the Christmas track into the CD player. “Shall we?” He held out a hand to Bev.

“What the fuck is up with him?” Bev heard Eddie whisper.

“I swear if this is some love song we are bing made to watch i’ll just head to bed right now.” Chloe deadpanned.

Yes, it had surprised Bev a little that Blake, of all people, offered to do a duet with her, but she was enjoying it. This was what Christmas was all about, having a good time.

Once Bev and Blake had finished singing (and not too badly, if Bev did say so herself) Roy Wood’s ‘I wish it could be Christmas everyday’ they took a dramatic bow, getting an applause from some of the teenagers.

“See? It’s fun!” Bev said in between laughs.

“Oh! My go my go!” Eddie hopped up from his seat, grabbed a CD which read ‘Beat it’ by Michael Jackson and pushed it into the player.

Half way through the song Eddie started dragging people up out of there seats to start dancing at his purposefully awful singing.

And the evening went on like that. Dancing, singing, chatting, laughing, all the things that makes Christmas the best time of the year for Bev Marsh.

And she was almost one hundred present sure this had been her best Christmas yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please ignore the fact that Christmas was over a month ago sksksk


	16. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s a new year at Whitemore, and someone new joins school. More plans are made and sometimes very very very important happens towards the end (hehe)

**Mike Hanlon, about to go to the Towers rooftop**

“Greta it’s dark outside no one will see your hair anyway.” Bev tapped her foot impatiently as Greta took her pony tail out for the fifteenth time.

“I’ve gotta start off the year right.” She replied indignantly. “Can’t go into 1984 looking like one of you guys.” She added, scanning the room of agitated teens.

“Let me have her-“ Eddie launched for her, quickly being held back by Mike and Ben. For someone who seemed a bit smaller than the others, Eddie certainly didn’t lack in strength, Mike realised.

“We’ll just meet you up there, ok Greta?” Chloe said, walking to the door.

“Ok ok I’m done, who was I kidding? I always look good.” Greta grinned and followed Chloe out of the room, followed by the rest of them.

“Wh-W-Why do w-we even t-truh-tr-try with her?” Bill asked quietly, going up two stairs at a time.

“God knows.” Mike sighed.

“Woah!” Richie yelled as he tripped up the stairs, falling flat on his face. “Shit.”

“This is why I tell you to do up your laces, Trashmouth” Eddie rolled his eyes, helping him up.

“If you’ve broken those glasses I swear-“ Ben warned, laughing slightly.

“Nice to hear you’re all very sympathetic guys.” Richie looked around, half blind. “Can someone pass me my glasses? You could literally have shape shifted into one of my one nights stands and I wouldn’t know.”

“The fuck Richie?” Bev laughed, grabbing his glasses from the floor.

“Are they broken?” Ben asked.

“If they are broken we will never hear the end of it.” Stan leaned against the wall, yawning.

Richie took the glasses off Bev and positioned them on his face, finally being able the see.

“You good now?” Mike laughed, patting Richie on the back as they continued to walk up to the roof.

“Fit as a fiddle, Mikey!” Richie flashed finger guns at him, doing his ‘best’ impression of a British accent.

They finally reached the tower top, taking seats in the chairs, that had previously been brought up their by teachers, Mike guessed.

“So you’re telling me there is no food up here?!” Stan yelled at the table that was seemingly set up for food. “May I sue?”

“There was food, you just got up here too late.” Eric called from the other side of the roof.

Stan flashed daggers in Richie’s direction. “Oh hell no!” He stormed over to Richie, Mike constantly attempting to drag him back. Luckily Matron arrived a few short seconds later with food piled up in her arms.

“Looks like I came just at the right time.” She winked as she walked past Mike, catching a look at the not so discrete Stan following her.

Soon everybody had taken their seats, laughing and chatting happily in the wait of the New Years count down.

“Not long now guys.” Bev said excitedly, linking her arm with Eddie’s in the hope to stay warm. Mike gave up questioning why he and the others forgot what winter felt like and how they needed a coat to stay warm.

Suddenly, without really realising he was going to do it, Mike sprung up from his seat and faced the losers.

“Guys, before it’s the new year, I just wanna say that you are all my best friends and you’ve definitely made this year a whole lot better and I’m sure more is to come and-“ the losers stared blankly back at him, so Mike cut his improvised speech short. “Yeah I just wanted to say I love you guys.” Mike looked down at his feet before sitting down.

“Aw Mike we love you too.” Bev smiled at him.

“Ten seconds now everyone!” Buffy shouted loudly.

“Nine!” The chant for the new year had finally begun.

“Eight!”

“Severn!” Everybody started jumping out of their seats.

“Six!”

“Five!” Mike had forgotten how high Eddie’s vocal range went.

“Four!”

“Three!” Students rushed towards the edge of the tower in anticipation.

“Two!”

“One!” As soon as ‘one’ was shouted fireworks streamed into the sky with hisses and loud ‘bangs’ flooding the surroundings. Colours popped and soared into all corners of the sky and Mike couldn’t remember the last time we was this happy.

 

 **Ben Hanscom, in the legendary common room**  
“This is pointless.” Bev said, not looking up from her book. “We know West and South did it, so what do we need evidence for?”

“You have to make sure.” Ben said. He went to the door and searched for the hair tie no one had bothered picking up the other day.

“It’s a new year, can’t we just let it go?” Richie asked.

“Without revenge?” Ben asked, searching the draws. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Probably still in my bed, where I’d like to be right now.”

Ben caught sight of the hair tie and snatched it up.

Despite his friends distaste, he wanted to do more investigating. Yes, he was sure West and South had snitched, but that was the point. If he could be 100% sure then they could start planning revenge.

In fact, he found it odd how both Towers didn’t seem keen to help investigate. As much as putting the war in the past seemed nice, to Ben as well, they couldn’t do that until they ended it once and for all.

And Ben was trying to do just that.

He held the hair tie between his thumb and index finger.

“Greta, is this yours?” He asked, holding it up high.

“I told you a hundred times before, no!” Greta said, glancing over.

“So then if must belong to someone from South.” Ben mumbled to himself.

“Let it go, would you?” Greta said. “It’s over okay. Done.”

“We haven’t even got them back yet.” Ben said, stretching the hair tie. “Do you want to give up so soon?”

Bev sighed and dropped her book on the armchair, pulling herself up.

“I’ll help you, but only because you’re obviously dead set on this.” She said. “Honestly, I think it’s a little over the top.”

“Says you.” Mike said from the corner of the room, flicking through some homework on inverse proportions.

“I’m just not willing to let this go.” Ben said shrugging. Bev got up.

“Then let’s get this over with then.” She said.

Bev crossed over to the door and grabbed Ben’s arm.

“Come on then.” She said, and pulled the door open.

They slipped out and Bev squeezed Ben’s hand.

“What first?” She asked.

“Uhh.” Ben said, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating. “Well, what do we know?”

“Not a lot.” Bev said. “I mean-“ She tilted her head, fiddling with her pinkie finger.

“You have a idea.” Ben said, scanning her face.

“Its just, all great detectives have to mark down what they know and what they need to know.” Bev said, beginning to walk. “Like the time, place, suspects. So, we should start by writing it all down.”

Ben nodded in agreement and let Bev lead him to East’s dorm.

She unlocked the door and walked over to her desk, searching through her draw until she found her notebook.

“Okay.” She said, flopping down on her bed and flipping to a clear page. “What do we know so far?”

Ben shuffled awkwardly in the corner of the dorm. “We know West and South said the war was over.”

“Anything else?”

“Greta claims to not own the hair tie-“ Ben said.

“Good!” Bev said, and scribbled something down. “And they gave us the hair tie on the 13th...”.

Ben watched Beverly write, her arm moving quickly as her pen darted across the paper.

“South and West are obviously suspects.” Bev said, looking up at Ben. “But that’s what bugs me. Why did they do it?”

“I know they said the war was over but, can we really trust them?” Ben asked, making his way over to where Bev was perched.

“No.” She said. “But I still feel like something’s missing. Someone I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Ben glanced down at her writing. “Maybe we’re what’s missing.”

“What do we mean?”

“Well, all the other times West and South have pranked us in some way, we’ve always been on our game.” Ben said. “Maybe it feels wrong because we’re not even trying to get revenge.”

Bev closed her notebook and dropped it on her bed.

“You really think we should plan something back?” She asked.

Ben thought about it. He thought about how Whitemore was becoming a home to not just him, but everyone. He thought about how Christmas had felt, how nice it was to have a break from everything.

But he could help the feeling that things weren’t going to get better if they leave it.

“We need to get them back.” 

 

 **Richie Tozier, in the dining hall**  
Richie dug his spoon into his mash, head resting on his hand.

“This looks like shit.” He reported, holding the spoon up to eye level.

“Glad to hear it.” Bev said, not looking up from her plate.

Richie sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking around the room.

All years were eating in the dining hall today, unlike some days when it was only the first years. Richie didn’t normally care how many people were in the hall but today seemed way too crowded. Everyone’s voices seemed ten times louder and he would of done anything to lay in his bed with a pillow over his face.

Shaking his head, Richie turned to focused his attention on the doors leading in.

But instead of seeing the double oak doors, he instead saw a crowd of West and South first years, huddled together.

Richie couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they all seemed pretty excited about something.

“Why aren’t South and West eating here?” Eddie asked, having obviously noticed their absence too.

“Dunno.” Richie said, still looking at them. “Knowing them, it can’t be good.”

Bill leaned round, trying to see them too.

“It’s p-p-pro-probably tuh-the n-nu-new ku-ku-ku-kid.” He said, spoon held loosely in his hand. “He w-was m-meh-meant to cu-come after Christmas.”

Richie distantly remembered Bill and Stan saying someone about a transfer kid before Christmas. He supposed he could have arrived today.

It would explain South and Wests’ behaviour, anyway.

“Think he’s going to be a asshole too?” Ben asked, stabbing his pie with his fork.

“If he’s with West then it won’t take long.” Richie said.

“You can’t judge him on what tower he’s in.” Bev said. “For all we know, he could be really nice.”

“You read too much, Bev.” Richie said. He turned around in his seat to face her.

“Or maybe I don’t constantly judge people?” Bev said, spinning his fork in her fingers.

“Like it matters anyway.” Eddie said, still trying to catch sight of the new kid. “West would rather die than let us mix. I’m surprised Bill and Stan even met him.”

“James didn’t realise we were in the art room.” Stan said. “He was only showing him around. But I agree with Bev; we shouldn’t automatically hate someone because of their tower. It causes unnecessary drama.”

Richie laughed a little to himself. Not because Stan was wrong (on the country, he was actually very right) but because that’s exactly what West and South had done. And boy, had it lead to some drama.

But recently, not so much. He knew that everyone had their own opinions on who had snitched and why, but Richie thought that maybe the war was really over this time. Maybe West and South just wanted to get the final word.

Maybe the towers didn’t need to hate each other 24/7.

Not that it mattered now. They’d get their revenge soon enough but the peace was nice.

Except...

Richie couldn’t help but want to see this new kid. Bill and Stan had both seen him, and West and South seemed very interested by something. Richie felt oddly intrigued.

“I’m going to see what’s going on.” Richie said, dropping his fork so it landed on his mash.

“You’re gonna see the new kid?” Mike asked, looking up from his food. “Why?”

Richie shrugged in response.

“He’s not good looking, if that’s what you’re after.” Stan said, and Bill snorted.

“No.” Richie said seriously. “Your mum is enough for me right now.”

“Richie, I swear to God!” Eddie said, staring him down.

“Jokes, jokes!” Richie cried, stumbling up from the table. He looked over at the crowd when a hand grabbed his arm.

“Wait.” Eddie said softly, hand curled around Richie’s wrist.

“Mmm?” Richie asked, wanting to get moving.

“Why do you want to see them anyway?” Eddie asked.

“You worried I’m going to find them attractive?” Richie asked, grinning. “Because I’d never forget about you, Spaghetti-“

“Ugh, No!” Eddie said, snatching his hand away like it got burnt. “It’s just... be careful, okay? We don’t know if West and South have anything more planned and-“

“I’ll be fine, Eds.” Richie said.

He started to walk towards West and South, not breaking eye contact with them. He wasn’t about to chicken out, and he wasn’t scared.

Richie didn’t let himself get scared, even if sometimes he felt like he should be. He just kept moving fast. The faster you move, the less you think. And sometimes, not thinking is a hell of a blessing.

He reached the babble of people.

“Well hello.” He said loudly. The talking stopped and the first years turned to look at him.

“Four eyes.” James said, looking pretty unfazed. “What do you want?”

“Ah well, I’m horned.” Richie said, smiling brightly. “And as much as I’d like to chat about how sad you must get when you look in the mirror and see a horse staring back, I’m actually here to find out what’s grabbed your pea-sized brains attention.”

“Funny.” Harriet said, arms on her hips. “But I’d suggest you watch that mouth, Tozier. We don’t have to lay off you forever.”

“That’s odd because I seem to recall you guys starting all the shit.” Richie said. “Maybe I’m mistaken-“

“It’s basically law for the towers to have some sort of war.” A dirty-blonde girl who Richie thought was called Sandy said. “We were just following tradition. Besides, that still doesn’t explain why you’re talking to us.”

“Well seaside, I was just getting to that.” Richie said. He scanned the crowed for a glimpse of a new face anywhere. “See, I couldn’t help noticing that you weren’t eating. So, naturally, I got curious. And my good old chums reminded me that someone new has been cursed with joining your towers. I was just wondering if the unfortunate soul is as brain dead as you or if he actually has a chance.”

“Of course you want to see the new boy.” Thomas said, stepping forward.

“And what’s that suppose to mean?” Richie asked, breaking contact to look at him.

“Friends with Kaspbrak, aren’t you?” Thomas asked. “Well, I just thought-“

“Tom, leave it.” James said. He raised his eyebrows at him and Thomas sighed.

“Fine.” He muttered. “Not stooping that low today I guess.”

“What are you taking about?” Richie asked, feeling his voice harden. “Eddie hasn’t done anything-“

“Yes Thomas.” A voice that Richie found familiar asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Tell you later.” Thomas said darkly, flashing his eyes at Richie. James shifted uncomfortably.

“You guys have a lot of secrets, don’t you?” The voice continued. Richie was standing on his tip-toes now, trying to see who was talking. And why their voice was making his heart beat faster.

“Still, it’s only in good competition, I suppose.” The voice continued, and that’s when the boy stepped out from the back of the crowd.

Richie almost fell to the floor in surprise.

Because standing in-front of him was an old friend. A very old friend. One he hoped he’d never see again.

“Richie!” Luke said, throwing his arms up. “Thought I’d never see you again!”

“Luke?” Richie asked and yes, the voice was registering with him now.

“You know him?” Anne asked, looking between Richie and Luke like it was one of the most interesting things she had ever seen.

“Yeah.” Luke said calmly. “He went to my old school.”

Richie was still standing shell shocked. Whitemore wasn’t his old school. He wasn’t his old self.

But here was someone who had their ability to make both his worlds crash together.

No, not both his worlds. No matter what, he was never going back. Never acting tough because he was secretly scared. Never acting ignorant because he wanted to be accepted.

He was Richie Tozier and he would sure to fuck stand his ground.

“Can we talk?” Luke asked, tilting his head.

“Uh-“ Richie started, but before he could finish Luke had grabbed his arm and was dragging him away from West and South.

Luke pulled Richie outside the hall and Richie snapped out of whatever shock he was in.

“Back off, Luke.” He said, snatching his arm away.

Luke grinned, raising his arms.

Richie watched Luke lean back against the wall, smile never faltering. Even though they were the only two people in the corridor, Richie felt like a spotlight was shining down on him.

He remembered this. Remembered always feeling like someone was watching him. Never being able to just be him.

He couldn’t slip back into that.

“What the hell do you want?” Richie asked, coming off way more aggressive than he intended to.

“Calm down.” Luke said, not even looking at Richie. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all.”

“Well, talk.” Richie said, crossing his arms.

Luke finally stopped looking around the corridor and met Richie’s eyes. He bit his tongue and fuck, Richie knew Luke’s mind games.

“So you’re part of North, huh?” Luke asked.

“Fuck yeah I am.” Richie said. “It’s the best tower.”

“Mmm.” Luke said, like he didn’t really care what Richie said. “Well, I have a offer for you. Why don’t you leave North and join West?”

Richie stepped back from Luke like he might lash out at him any second.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“You heard.” Luke said. “Join West. We can have fun, like we use to. Remember old school, Rich? Now we were top dogs. Why don’t we do it again?”

Richie shook his head, trying to find the words.

“You’re stupid.” He said. “You’ve been apart of Whitemore for less than a day and already you’re trying to take charge? Make offers? Sorry Luke but there’s no way I’m moving Towers.”

Luke laughed, leaning on his left shoulder. “You heard me, I’m all for being in control. West and South told me of your little war. Sounds pathetic but I can add to it, right? I mean, they did tell me they wanted a break. Wanted to let you live. But where’s the fun in that?”

“What are you saying?” Richie asked. “I’ve changed, Luke. Or not changed. Stopped being changed. I’m not going to help you.”

“Shame, you could of been such a help.” Luke said. He stood up straight and shook his head. “I know things about you. I could still use you.” He tilted his head. “But who’s to say they’d believe me? You said yourself, you’re not an asshole anymore. Maybe I should leave you be.”

Richie stepped back, feeling about 2cms tall. Everything was rushing back to him, playing inside his head. Richie felt inside his head. Everything was too loud and too in focus. He was struggling to think, struggling to breathe.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Then again.” Luke continued, ignoring Richie’s obvious discomfort. “Maybe I’ll find a way yet. Or even better, maybe I’ll find another way. Do something absolutely terrible. I have a whole new school to fuck with, the possibilities seem endless!”

Luke laughed and Richie wished the ground could swallow him.

“I better get going now.” Luke said, patting Richie on the shoulder. “But I’ll see you around, right?”

Richie opened his mouth but nothing came out. Nothing could come out.

Luke walked away and the bell rang and people started to walk past Richie but Richie didn’t notice that all Richie noticed was now fast his heart was beating and how fast his brain seemed to be running and how loud everything was and how focused and everything seemed.

And how fucking lost he was.

 

 **Stan Uris, in his Art Class**  
Apparently Stan was incapable of shading because the thing infront of him looked nothing like how it should.

In fact, it looked kind of scary.

“I think I should drop out of art.” Stan said seriously, turning his sheet around to see if it looked any better.

“I’ll join you.” Ben said, looking down at his book like it was mentally scarring.

Stan shuffled closer to his desk, willing himself to not give up just yet. Art had never been his best subject, but that didn’t mean he completely sucked at it. Well, yet anyway. Class with the Losers wasn’t so bad and their teacher was nice, so all in all, Stan liked the lesson.

It’s just his lacking talent in Art that proved a problem.

“So anyway.” Bev spoke up, rubbing at her book violently with her thumb. “I was thinking about how we still need revenge on West and South.”

“I have a few ideas.” Ben said, looking up at Bev. “I mean, some are a little complicated, but if we can pull them off-“

“Why don’t we leave it?” Richie asked.

“What?” Ben said, switching to look at Richie. “Why?”

Stan turned around in his seat, head tilted. It wasn’t like Richie to not want justice. Since day one on the war he had been their driving force. So what was different now?

And why did Richie look scared?

“Well, if you think about it, the war is over.” Richie said. “Maybe we could drop it and go through the rest of the year without wanting to jump off a cliff every two seconds.”

Stan shook his head. “No way, Richie. We have to get them back.”

“But we don’t!” Richie said, throwing his hands up. “Nothings carrying this war out apart from us!”

“And that’s the point!” Stan said.

He didn’t understand why Richie suddenly didn’t want to help plan revenge, and maybe if Stan had taken a moment to notice the uncertainty in Richie’s eyes he would of gone easier. But the war wasn’t just some petty game to him.

They had been the ones who had locked him up in the changing rooms. The ones who made him almost have a panic attack on his first week.

He’d been so close to letting his Towers down, and that terrified him over everything else.

So no, he wasn’t about to let it go. In fact, he was going to do anything but that.

He was going to win the war.

“You guys both have points.” Mike said, looking back at their teacher to make sure she wasn’t looking. “But are we really willing to just let this go? After everything they’ve put us through?”

“Short answer: no.” Stan said.

Mike placed his hand on Stan’s gently and Stan felt himself relax under the touch.

He was being harsh, way too harsh, and he knew it. He wasn’t going to let the war go but he didn’t have to be a dick about it at the same time.

“Listen, I don’t mean to sound aggressive.” Stan said. “But I mean what I say; we can’t just let the whole thing blow over. We can’t just step down!”

“And we won’t!” Richie insisted. “We’ll just have a break from it.”

“Isn’t the-the-that what Wu-west said?” Bill said.

Richie raised his eyebrows at him and Bill raised his hands in a defensive state.

“I’m with Stan.” Ben said. “They’ve done way too much to us to just be let off the hook. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Exactly.” Stan said.

“So we’re going to be stupid about it?” Richie asked.

“Rich, is there something you want to talk about?” Eddie asked, looking up from his work.

“Haha.”

“I’m serious.” Eddie said. “If there’s another reason you don’t want to do this then you can tell us.”

Eddie looked so openly at Richie then that Stan started to feel a bit bad.

“It’s nothing.” Richie said, breaking eye contact. “I just think we’re making things worse instead of better.”

“Well, I disagree.” Stan said. “We can pick one of Ben’s ideas, put it to action and kick West and Souths’ ass. What’s so stupid about that?”

Richie glances around at them, seemingly thinking something over. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head.

“I said before, it’s nothing.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to talk to Richie but at that moment the bell rang, and the class began to pack away.

Stan jumped up, grabbing his bag from his seat.

It had been a long day and he was grateful for it to finally be drawing to a close.

“P.E next.” Eddie moaned, slamming his book into his bag. “Anyone feel like taking a trip off the side of a cliff?”

Stan ignored Eddie’s complaints and continued to pack away, thoughts somewhere else.

Revenge was just around the corner, he could feel it. They weren’t going to fail this time. They’d get West and South back for what’s they’d put them through.

Because Stan Uris wasn’t giving up.

Not just yet.

 

**Bill Denbrough, in the changing rooms, mentally preparing himself for p.e**

“Have I said how much I hate PE?” Eddie asked, throwing his school shirt to the corner of the room.

“Many times.” Mike laughed. Eddie walked to get his shirt when he tripped and fell into Richie’s clothes.

“For fuck sAKE!” Eddie yelled.

“Haha, don’t fall for me too fast Eds.” Richie helped him up, being pushed by Eddie.

“Sh-s-sh-s-should we s-skive a-a-a-again?” Bill sighed.

“You know, this is child labour, like we are being made to do this and we aren’t even getting paid!” Eddie ranted on.

“We could but this time it wouldn’t be for a good cause.” Stan replied to Bill.

“What are we even doing in PE at the moment anyway?” Ben asked, pulling up his pe socks.

“Probably cross country, I’m sure that’s all they know how to do.” Eddie suddenly groaned dramatically.

“I’m sure they know how to do your mom-“ Richie chuckled as he was whacked with some shorts.

“Guys head straight to the field when you are changed.” The coach poked his head around the door.

“What did i tell you.” Eddie muttered under his breath.

“Would you mind repeating, Eddie? I seemed to have forgotten what you have been saying for the past three weeks.” Stan said sarcastically.

“Ha ha.” Eddie deadpanned in return.

The six walked out to the field, shivering and breathing steam out of their mouths as if they had all turned into dragons.

“Anyone s-s-see Bev y-yuh-y-yet?” Bill scanned around the field in any sight of her.

“No- oh there she is. BEV!” Ben shouted, making her turn our way and run over.

“You guys look like you might turn into icicles and snap.” Bev’s rosy cheeks lit up as she grinned and chuckled.

“At least icicles don’t have to do cross country.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Still going on about this huh?” Bev asked.

“Pretty pointless question if you ask me.” Stan shrugged.

“And above all, little Eds is still wearing booty shorts.” Richie laughed.

“Don’t call me Eds! Or little, I’m not that small.” Eddie huffed.

“Your so cute when you’re angry. Cute cute cu-“

“Go away Richie!”

“G-Guys!” Bill hissed, trying to alert them before coach came over and would try give them a lesson long lecture about how ‘sport isn’t just about physical ability, it’s also about listening ability’.

“Boys! What have I told you about listening ability?” He yelled from the front of the little group they were in.

“Sorry sir.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Right. Everyone start stretching.” Coach clapped and everybody started to stretch (i.e. star jumps and ‘writing your name with your hips’)

“R.I.C.H.I.EEEEE.” Richie motioned, making the six laugh uncontrollably.

“Who kn-kn-knew you were so f-f-flexible with y-your hips.” Bill laughed, soon stopping after he realised what he let himself into.

“Well-“

“Don’t even bother.” Eddie shook his head, cutting Richie off. Richie leaned close to Bill and whispered in his ear.

“I’ve had good practice with Eddie’s mom.” Bill pushed Richie away, groaning.

“Right, now that you’ve all finished stretching,” Coach said.

“Oh yeah forgot that’s what we were meant to be doing.” Richie smirked.

“I want you all to do five laps around the field.” He continued. “And no walking.”

“Fuck this.” Eddie murmured and started to walk away from everybody, although being dragged back by Bev shortly after.

“You really will do anything to get out of pe.” Bev shook her head.

They all, begrudgingly, started to jog around the field, dragging their heels at the back of everybody, and Bill was pretty sure Chloe had overlapped them twice already.

Once the losers had finally reached their second lap and were turning a corner, bill saw Richie run behind a close by hedge. Puzzled, Bill went and followed him.

“Richie!” He hissed. “W-w-What are y-you doing?” He walked over to the crouching boy.

“You really think I’m gonna run five laps?” Richie panted. “Look at me I can barely do one.”

Bill walked over to Richie and crouched down beside him. “But y-you Don’t u-u-usually c-complain about pe. Well, n-n-n-not as much as Eddie an-a-anyway.”

“No one could complain as much as Eddie does.” Richie chuckled.

“A-a-are you sh-sh-sure that’s the oh-only reason you ran b-Behind this hedge? A-and obviously p-pl-p-planning to be alone.” Bill asked.

“Why of course Billy Boy. Absolutely nothing is clinging to my mind, I’m positively spiffing!” Richie smiled, almost too widely. Bill stayed quiet, just staring at him, waiting for him to crack. “What?”

“Oh n-nothing.” Bill shrugged and turned to leave when Richie spoke.

“Ok fine, maybe there is a teeny tiny thing on my mind.” Richie reasoned with Bill. “It’s just it shouldn’t be.”

“Is i-i-it Eddie’s mom?” Bill smiled, making Richie nudge him.

“Actually no, for once.” Richie smirked. “It’s just...I don’t know I’m just really confused and I have little clue as to why.”

Bill was sort of taken back at how Richie looked. He could see the pain and war within his eyes, battling himself almost. Bill almost felt guilty since this was the first time he properly noticed it when it was in front of his nose the whole time.

“I don’t even know what it is I’m trying to explain, heck I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. It’s just like everything I’ve ever known has sort of become a mystery.” Richie said slowly, as if he were picking out words from a dictionary.

Bill noticed that Richie had let his guard down, for the first time in a while, and he felt happy that Richie could trust him enough to open up to him for even a minute.

“W-well, can y-you try to ex-e-explain what you a-are feeling?” Bill asked gently.

“Uh.” Richie scratched his head, looking around the edge of the hedge, in other words, looking for another topic to speak about. “How many times have they gone round the field? Because my oh my I wouldn’t wanna return to coach late.” He laughed nervously.

“Richie...” Bill sighed. “Y-you Don’t h-h-have to t-tell me b-b-buh-b-But I wanna help.”

“Well maybe I don’t want your help!” Richie snapped suddenly, and Bill saw his guard return just like that. Bill shifted uncomfortably for a few seconds before Richie sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that, In fact I need your help a whole lot.”

“I’m s-s-Sorry too, you d-d-don’t have t-to tell me i-if you don’t w-w-want to.” Bill smiled apologetically.

“Truth is,” Richie stared down at his crossed legs. “Now, I don’t entirely know, not even close to knowing, but I think I may feel differently about boys. How I should feel about girls, which I do still feel about chicks don’t get me wrong, but boys as well.” Richie blinked repeatedly. Bill shuffled closer to him and laid his hand gently on Richie’s back. “But I know it’s not right and I shouldn’t feel it. I’ve been at war with myself ever since it started.”

“W-wh-W-What do you mean it’s n-not right? L-l-look at Eddie, h-h-he’s accepted h-himself and y-y-you certainly a-accept him, so what’s s-so different W-with you?” Bill asked.

“I told you already, I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t expect myself to have feelings for more than one gender.” Richie replied. “And oh god what are my parents gonna think? They’ll probably be so ashamed that they’ll kick me out!”

“I-if they do th-they are sh-s-sh-shit parents.” Bill deadpanned. “B-But listen, Richie, th-th-there is nothing wr-wrong with being bi or a-anything. Above a-all you just have to stay t-tr-true to yourself and accept that wh-who you are is the b-best person you c-can ever be. A-and if p-people can’t accept that, then th-th-they’re not w-worthy of you.”

“Why thank you Billy boy!” Richie smiled, wiping away what seemed like a tear, but bill just took it as a trick of the light. “But seriously, thank you, if I hadn’t told you or any of you guys, I think I would’ve fucking exploded.”

“Y-y-you’re welcome, k-kind sir.” Bill laughed and got up. “We b-b-Better get running, I th-t-think they’re on their f-final lap.”

“Jeez they take ages to run.” Richie got up and repositioned his glasses.

“Well th-th-they do have Eddie w-with them.” Bill chuckled, falling in line in between a few other runners.

“Oh and Bill?” Richie asked quickly. Bill saw him shut like a book once again.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Can you not tell anybody just yet? I kinda wanna do it myself but I just need a little time.” Richie said quietly.

“O-of course.” Bill smiled in return.

Once they had returned to where the Coach was standing, they finally reunited with the rest of the losers.

“Where have you guys been?” Mike asked.

“Skiving I suppose.” Stan smirked.

“Without me?!” Eddie yelled.

“Shh!” The six hissed at him.

“Nah me and William here were just chatting about the noises your moms make when I-“

“Ok right round two!” Coach yelled dramatically, saving all of them from rolling Richie across the field.

Bill smiled across at Richie and nodded. Above all that happened that lesson, Bill just felt happy somebody actually trusted him. It was refreshing. Since his parents had shortly stopped after Georgie went missing. He liked the returning feeling.

He liked the returning feeling of him not being so alone anymore.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RICHIE IS NOW OUT TO BILL AYYYY  
> we hope you enjoyed this chapter, the drama is realllly starting now so get reddie


	17. Hurts So Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We put soooo much work into this chapter. A lot of romantic build up and Buffy reveals something to Mike. But we tried something new and we hoped it paid off!

**Beverly Marsh, in English Class**

Bev didn’t know what Richie was on but what she did know was that they were gonna get south and west back. All that ‘the war is over’ shit pissed Bev off more than anything.

She had a feeling Luke was what was bothering Richie, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions, not after the malarkey of accusing Greta. Richie had a way of bottling up his feelings so much that Bev thought he could possibly explode, which is why he (Beverly guessed) lashes out at people every so often.

“You know what we should do?” Bev slammed her pen on the table.

“Wh-W-W-What?” Bill asked, shading in half of his English book instead of doing the actual work.

“Just fuck it and skive the rest of the day.” Bev kicked the table leg repeatedly.

“With th-th-the others or...?” Bill asked, turning to look at her.

“North and east, yeah, wouldn’t that be fun?” Bev wondered dreamily, really regretting her decision of walking into that English classroom in the first place.

“I g-g-g-guess, but don’t y-you think we’ve skived e-e-enough? And taking e-e-everybody would l-l-look sort of s-s-sus-s-suspicious in lessons a-anyway.” Bill reasoned.

Bev just stared at Bill for a while, trying to see if he was joking or genuinely being serious, then snorted. “Ha, no. Besides we can just take some or something and leave others. Anyway so we could look for ways to get south and west back. We could take the day to get one or two of Ben’s plans ready and-“

“Seems a l-little un-un-unfair on the ones who d-don’t get ‘p-picked’ to skive with us.” Bill said quietly. “So maybe w-we can just d-d-do it at lunch or after-“

“What is up with you? You’re usually up for this kinda thing and now you’re turning into Richie. Please don’t tell me you’re going with Richie’s side because if you are I swear-“

“No n-no i’ll do it, it’s j-j-just when will W-we do it?” Bill finally gave in, scratching a dent in the table with his ruler end.

“Well now I guess.” Bev shrugged.

“How will w-w-we all get out o-of the room at the s-s-suh-s-same time? And h-h-h-How are the others su-s-supposed to know wh-What we’re doing?” Bill fired questions at Bev faster than she could even process the words.

“Well...” Bev thought about it for a minute or so, soon realising they maybe couldn’t that very lesson. “We’ll maybe not this lesson but once English finishes we can pull them to one side and talk about it before they head to math-“

“You two! Stop talking and actually do your work instead of colouring in your book like childish toddlers!” Mrs Foy walked over to them and caught a look at Bill’s book.

“Sorry miss.” They both said in unison, getting a nod from Mrs Foy as she turned to walk back to her desk. Once she’d sat down and started marking some more books, they continued their conversation.

“How do y-you know th-they’ll do it?” Bill asked one last question.

“Come on it’s our half, most will take any chance they’ve got to miss even so much as half a lesson. Especially Eddie.” Bev chuckled, and started to write the paragraph she had meant to have started twenty minutes ago.

At the end of the lesson the bell finally rang, after what seemed like an eternity, and Bev and Bill rushed to the front of the classroom to the door, trying to reach everybody and round them up.

“Eddie wait!” Bev called from inside the classroom, making Eddie turn around. “Make the others wait as well.” Eddie nodded and turned to stop the rest of the losers. “No I mean all of north and east!”

“Oh.” Eddie turned back round and called the rest of their half back into the corridor.

“What’s up Bev?” Mike asked once they were all with each other and listening for some sort of explanation from Beverly.

“I have an idea!” She said excitedly. “But we need to go to our common room or something so I can explain.”

“But we have math now...?” Stan pointed up the stairs, indicating that they should leave now or Mr Smith would throw them down the stairs.

“I know.” Bev grinned.

“H-h-her idea involves s-skiving the whole d-d-duh-day.” Bill explained, clearly seeing the confused looks on most of their form’s faces.

“I’m down.” Eddie waltzed over to her and Bill.

“Who else wants to skive?” She asked. Mike, Buffy, Ben and Richie walked over to Bev’s side. “It’s to do with getting south and west back.” Bev added. Just like that Richie reversed back to where he was before and just shook his head. Stan doing the polar opposite.

“Wait what? Why?” Mike motioned for Richie to return his side. “Richie we need you.”

“I told you, I think we should just leave them be. We will be causing another war just by getting them back, is that what you guys really want?” Richie asked defensively.

“What we really want is to give them what they deserve.” Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I mean they shouldn’t just get away with what they did with nothing to suffer from.” Stan folder his arms.

“I don’t see why you guys are so set on this!” Richie raised his voice a little louder.

“Well we don’t see why you aren’t!” Bev yelled louder back.

“Guys!” Eddie shouted the loudest. “There isn’t any point fighting over this! This is probably what they want! Look, Richie I see your point and I sort of understand, but surely south and west deserve a little taste of their own medicine?” Eddie said calmly to Richie, lightly placing a hand on his arm before it being snatched away.

“Fuck. You know what? I don’t care any more! Do what ever you like to them but what ever you do just leave me the fuck out of it!” Richie shouted, almost in tears, and ran across the corridor down the steps of which led to the library.

“Richie wait.” Eddie called, following him down the stairs.

“Well sh-sh-shit.” Bill muttered. “That w-w-was explosive.”

“God that was all my fault.” Bev sighed, rubbing her forehead like the argument had given her a migraine. “Anyone still wanna find evidence or is that off now?”

“I’ll s-s-still come.” Bill smiled at her, Bev returning it.

“Yeah us as well, I’m sure Richie will come round, and Eddie will probably return shortly too.” Ben spoke for Mike, Stan and Buffy.

“We’ll just stay in class to make it less obvious it’s happening.” Chloe nodded and started to make her way up to maths, the rest of their half trailing behind her.

“Right let’s plan where we are splitting up to.” Bev said, determined now. “So, there are six people skiving, which is an even number, meaning there will be three pairs.”

“So do we just choose who we pair up with?” Buffy asked, Bev nodded. “Well I choose Mike.”

“Oh, Yeah ok I guess.” Mike shrugged, looking over at Stan who seemed to be just burning a whole through his shoes with his eyes.

“Ok, Stan who do you wanna be with?” Bev asked, ignoring his slightly dampened down mood.

“Uh... Ben, why not.” Stan shrugged and smiled at Ben.

“Guess that leaves you and me together then.” Bev turned to Bill. “As partners I mean, like searching for evidence, not together.” Beverly internally slapped herself around the face multiple times for feeling the need to explain how her plan was gonna go.

“O-o-o-of course.” Bill smiled.

“Ok so Stan and Ben, you could maybe go to south or west’s dorm and look for some evidence there. Mike and Buffy you can check in the sick bay, sound good?” She asked.

“Yep.” They all nodded to show they understood the plan.

“Me and Bill can just go in a classroom or something-“ Bev stopped talking and flashed her head around the corridor. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Ben asked, checking to see what Bev was so alarmed at.

“That noise, you heard that right?” She scrunched her eyebrows.

“I swear if someone as been listening this whole time I will just roll down those stairs right now.” Stan deadpanned.

“Probably just the wind banging a door against the wall or something.” Mike reassured.

“Hopefully.” Bev muttered.

“Ok so back to the plan, what time do we meet up here so we can talk about any evidence we find? That is if we find anything?” Buffy said, still not entirely sure of what was happening.

“Oh uhh...” Bev thought for a moment. “Like, half one or two or something?”

“Sh-sh-should probably b-b-buh-be more specific.” Bill said quietly.

“One forty five?” Mike suggested.

“Sounds good.” Ben nodded.

“Right, what about Eddie and Richie though?” Stan asked, staring at the wall beside him.

“Well once me and Bill, hopefully, find some evidence, we can just go find them.” Bev replied.

“P-p-p-presumably still in th-th-the l-library.” Bill said.

“Ok well let’s get going guys!” Buffy clapped her hands and started walking down to the opposite side of the corridor to go to the sick bay, followed by Mike.

“See you here at one forty five.” Ben waved as he and Stan left.

“Let’s g-g-guh-g-go.” Bill nodded at Bev and she grinned back.

“I wonder what that noise was though.” Bev muttered as she headed down the stairs, Bill striding next to her.

“Probably j-j-j-just what Mike s-s-s-said, the w-wind.” Bill shrugged off Bev’s worry.

“I hope he’s right.” Bev folded her arms as a breeze of cold air drifted into the hall way.

“W-w-which room f-f-first?” Bill trailed his finger across the wall as they walked.

“This one?” Bev pointed at a geography room they had just stopped at.

“Sh-sh-sure.” Bill pushed open the door. “Ok, y-y-you check d-draws and i’ll ch-ch-chuh-ch-check cupboards.”

Bev didn’t really know what could be found in a geography room that is pretty irrelevant, but you never know what you can find in these sort of situations.

Just as she was walking over to the teachers desk, she felt another draft of wind prick at her arms. She whipped her head around to the door. “Oh, I didn’t realise you shut the door behind us?”

“I d-d-didn’t...?” Just as Bill stuttered his sentence out, a click came from the door handle. Bill obviously saw the concerned look growing on Bev’s face. “I’m sh-sure that’s j-j-just the d-d-d-door shutting.”

She sped over and twisted the door handle to open it, with no success.

“What’s u-uh-up?” Bill walked over to her. Bev turned to look at him.

“It’s locked.”

 

 **Stan Uris, heading to South’s dorm with Ben**  
Stan wasn’t really a person for compulsive thoughts. When he was doing something he threw all his attention and focus at it. No distractions, nothing.

But as he was walking down the empty corridor with Ben Hanscom at his side, he couldn’t help but think back to when he lived at home.

Not in a sad, wanting kind of way. Just in a curious way.

Because if you had told Stan six months ago that he would of found six friends, gotten into a war and enjoyed the majority of it, he would of said that you were crazy. In fact, if you had told him how much he would learnt at Whitemore, not even in the lesson sense, he would of called you crazy.

But all these things stood true, no matter where he was six months ago.

Stan winced. Thinking back to when he lived at home was something he continuously found hard to do. It wasn’t even like he hated his home life, because he didn’t. He liked his parents, and he knew they loved him back. It was his school that was the part he struggled to think about.

He had never had any friends, not since he was six or seven anyway, so everyday he had been alone. He’d bike to school alone, he’d sit in class alone, he’d eat lunch alone.

And honestly, he hadn’t even felt lonely at first, just a bit lost. But after a while, he started to feel it. See it, too. Everyone else would be talking and laughing and he was just that one kid who had no-one.

And it wasn’t even like he could distract himself with school work. Because his school sucked big time.

Stan had really begun to doubt if it had ever been judged by the people who test schools because he felt sure they’d of been closed down immediately if so. Nothing worked properly, and the teachers could barely teach.

Stan dreaded waking up because he knew where he’d have to go and how alone he’d be.

So, looking back, he supposed he should of been grateful when his parents suggested Whitemore.

“It’s a great place, son.” His Dad had said one evening, over a dinner of pasta. “I went when I was your age and had a blast. It was where I met your mother, actually.”

“But that’s doesn’t mean I want to go!” Stan said, watching his Dad carefully from across the table.

“We’ve already talked about it, Stan.” His Mum said calmly. “Your school just isn’t good enough. Keeping you enrolled there for your high school years would be terrible.”

“I’m doing fine, I swear I am!” Stan said, getting heated now.

“What about friends?” His Dad asked, naming his worst fear easily. “You’ll make loads in Whitemore.”

“Dad-” Stan said, not wanting to talk about his lack of friends.

“Just give it a try, Stanley.” His Mother had said calmly. “If you really hate it, then we’ll pull you out after Christmas. How does that sound?”

And Stan had honestly thought he’d be leaving. From the moment he walked through the train station, he had hated Whitemore with everything he had.

Until he met Mike, that is. And from then on, he had done a lot of thinking. Maybe Whitemore wasn’t so bad. Maybe his parents were right. Maybe he would actually make friends.

And it was this thought that really drove Stan on his mission to find evidence with Ben.

Because he knew full well that he hadn’t had life easy. But it was so much better now, and he would do anything to keep it that way.

And if that included winning this war, so be it.

“Oh, shit!” Ben cried suddenly, falling to sharp stop.

“Woah-!” Stan said, stumbling into him. “Ben, what the hell?”

Ben was looking around wildly, dull panic in his eyes. They were standing towards the end of a corridor, the hall to their right.

“What is it?” Stan asked. “Did you see someone? Did someone see us?”

“No.” Ben mumbled, still scanning around. “But the top years have drama in the hall, and they’d be sure to see us if we walk past.”

Stan looked up, rubbing his hands together worriedly.

He was coming to understand that skiving wasn’t as easy as he once thought. He found himself double and triple checking his steps and jumping at the smallest sound.

“We’ll just have to go outside then.” Stan said, redirecting their path in his head.

“What?” Ben asked. “In this weather? Ugh, I’d rather be flipping caught-“

“Well, I wouldn’t.” Stan said shortly. “Come on.”

He grabbed Ben’s arm and all but dragged him around the corner of the corridor, leading him to a set of oak doors that lead outside, to the field.

“Where now?” Ben asked, arms hugging himself.

“Uh, well...” Stan said, trying to remember the way to South’s Tower. “I think we need to go around the back way.”

Ben let out a loud groan, stopping when Stan wacked him.

“Someone will hear you!” He hissed, and Ben shut up.

They headed around to the back of the school, making sure to keep to the walls, as to not be spotted. Third years were doing p.e outside, so Stan made sure he was completely pressed against the wall, willing himself not to think about it.

Something brushed his hand and he leaped back like it had been slashed.

“Holy shit!” Stan squealed, shaking his hand madly.

“It’s just a cobweb!” Ben whispered urgently.

“Oh.” Stan said, stopping moving his hand. “Oops.”

“It’s fine.” Ben said, eyes twinkling. “We just-“

“Hey!” A voice cut them off, yelling at them from across the field.

“Fuck.” Ben whispered.

“What are you kids doing, wandering about?” The coach continued to yell at them. Stan prayed they were too far away to be identified.

“What do we do?” Ben hissed.

Stan tried to think of the most logical answer. The smartest thing to do in their current situation.

“Run.” Stan said, and him and Ben bolted down the side of the school, ignoring the loud shouts behind them.

“Turn, quick!” Stan said, not bothering to keep his voice down, and him and Ben rounded the corner hastily.

They didn’t stop running, pushing on as they sped down the wall, leading to the back entrance.

Stan’s chest felt like someone had set a fire in it, and it was slowly spreading down to his legs. If he had thought cross country was hard, running away from a Third year p.e lesson was much harder.

It was sort of ironic, Stan thought, because their coach would probably be proud of them for running so fast.

“Okay!” Ben said. “Mu-mu-man d-d-d-“

“Down.” Stan panted out, watching Ben fall down against the wall. “You sound like Bill.”

Ben just shook his head in response, taking in large gasps of air.

“Come on.” Stan said after a minute. He heaved Ben up by his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Fucking bullshit.” Ben mumbled, falling Stan had he led him to the door.

“Think it’s open?” Ben asked.

Stan tried the handle, opening it with ease. The two slid in, looking around quietly to make sure no one was watching.

“Okay.” Stan said, trying to remember the way around the school. “If we go round that way,” He pointed to the corridor on his left. “then we can reach the staircase quickest.”

Ben nodded and they continued to walk down the corridor.

Stan, surprisingly or not, didn’t feel that nervous. Of course, he was worried about teachers spotting them, but he wasn’t nervous about the lesson they were missing.

It’s breaking school rules, serious school rules, and Stan Uris didn’t care. Which was good, he thought. Or hoped.

He still wasn’t sure on this whole skiving thing. But maybe not thinking about the consequences and just doing what you needed to was the best way.

The staircase was directly in-front of them now. The red carpet on it trailed up the steps, pathing the way to the second floor. It really was uncanny, how similar it was to North and East’s side.

“Come on.” Ben said, prompting Stan. “Let’s do this.”

They both started to climb the stairs, not bothering to keep to the side this time.

Both reached the top and headed down another corridor, knowing where they were going now. Past the music rooms was South’s dorm, and Stan remembered Bev saying how the layout matched up to their side.

Both him and Ben darted past the classrooms and turned to where South Tower was. The staircase twisted up, visiting each dorm, from first years to top years. There were small windows, letting sunlight spill in.

Stan began to climb the steps, stopping after a few. Ben followed lead, until they were both standing outside the first years dorm.

“Ready?” Stan asked.

“How are we gonna get in?” Ben asked worriedly. “I mean, I could try to pick the lock, but who’s to say it would work?! What if someone sees me and I get arrested for forced entry! Or even worst, I break the door-!”

Stan moved forward and twisted the handle. The door swung open.

“...Oh.” Ben said.

“Come on.” Stan said, ducking into the room.

It was pleasantly warm, and the beds were all neatly made. Over the corner was a familiar door Stan knew led into the bathroom. The dorm was pretty much identical to North’s, apart from the arrangement of objects on the bedside table.

Ben came in, twisting his hands nervously. “What first?” He asked, glancing around the room like someone would jump out at them any second.

“Still got your camera?” Stan asked, and Ben gave a nod before mumbling a small “yeah.”.

“Then we’ll look around.” Stan decided. “Search their draws and bedside tables. See if we can match anything up.”

“Got it.” Ben said, heading to the left while Stan went to the right, both privately agreeing their side of the room.

Logically, where would you hide potentially evidence?

“Draws.” Stan muttered to himself, and starting with the bed by the window, he began pulling bedside table cabinets open.

He was met with a collection of books and pens, all in a horrible mess. Stan’s breath wavered and he shut the draw, careful to make sure it didn’t look like he’d messed with it.

He repeated this three times, finding nothing of use at all.

“If you continue like that, they’ll notice we’ve been here from how tidy you left it.” Ben said, looking up from the bed he was searching. “We’re not room service.”

“No shit.” Stan said, slamming the draw shut. He walked over to the last one. “That’s nothing here, and it’s pretty inconvenient. Like, at least leave some proof around if you’re gonna start a war and-“

He pulled the draw open and let out an excited gasp.

A collection of black hair ties, identical to the one Greta was framed with , were laying at the bottom.

“Ben!” Stan half yelled half whispered . “Ben, I found something!”

Ben came stumbling over. He looked in and grinned at Stan.

“Perfect!” He said, and pulled out his camera. Looking around quickly, Ben snapped a photo, flash lighting up the draw.

“Think it will be enough?” Stan asked, but something had seemed to of grabbed Ben’s attention. He leaned further over the bedside table, moving the hair ties out the way.

“Ben?” Stan asked, part of his brain screaming at him to put the hair ties back before someone noticed they’d moved.

“This is Bev’s!” Ben hissed urgently, pointing to the diary he had uncovered under all the hair ties. “I was with her when she wrote in it, last September sometime, and I was also with her when she saw it had gone missing! They took it, what if they wrote in it too?”

Stan raised his eyebrows, trying to process what Ben had just squealed at him. Then, he smiled.

“Let’s check.”

Ben pulled out the diary excitedly. The front had a pastel flower pattern in-scripted onto it, and Stan briefly saw Bev’s name written at the bottom.

“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Ben said suddenly, eagerness edging away like a candle somebody had just blew out.

“What?” Stan asked. “Why?”

“Because,” Ben said. “Its Bev’s, we don’t know what’s written in it. What if it’s private or something. I just... I don’t want to read something she thought nobody would. It feels wrong and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Stan looked at Ben carefully, but instead of looking back, his eyes were set on the floor, cheeks flushed.

“Okay.” Stan said. He began to nod. “You’re right; we shouldn’t invade her privacy that way. But what if we start from the back?”

“See what the most recent thing written in was?” Ben asked, looking up at Stan.

“Yeah. If it’s in Bev’s writing, we’ll put it back without reading it. But if it’s those assholes, we can flip back until Bev’s writing stops and there’s starts. That way, we won’t read anything Bev might not want us to.”

“Okay.” Ben said, and smiled a sweet, pure smile. “Let’s do that.”

So Stan turned the book over and skimmed through the pages, stopping when he found the most recently written in page.

Sure enough, it was in unrecognisable, neat handwriting, completely different to Bevs.

“Go back some more.” Ben said. “We can stop when we see Bev’s writing and read on from there.”

So Stan turned back a few pages, until new handwriting appeared on the top corner in small scribbles.

“That must of been what Bev last wrote.” Ben said. “The dates add up, too!”

Stan nodded quickly, and flipped to the next page. New writing.

“This is what South and West wrote.” Stan said slowly. “It’s probably about us.” He looked up at Ben, and nodded towards the camera on the table.

Stan began to read it out loud.

“Halloween, North and East pranked us. Next prank idea:” Stan looked up from the book and down to Ben, who was sitting crossed legged on the floor. “There’s just a bunch of ideas written down, but none of them have been used on us.”

“Read the next bit.” Ben insisted.

Stan turned the page and continued reading:

“Overheard conversation, Mike Hanlon is having a party. Could be of use.”

Stan looked up at Ben, who was staring in shook at the book.

“That’s it!” Ben said. “That’s all we need!”

Stan wanted to agree with Ben, but he felt some sort of uncertainty at how vague it was.

“Let’s see what else there is.” Stan said, and Ben shrugged.

“Nothing much has happened, can’t find out much about Mike’s party. James heard something about Eddie but we’re in agreement to not use it.”

“That was mysterious.” Ben said. “Why do they never actually put anything we can use. Like, ‘today we snitched on Mike. Now we’re going to sleep with the pain and regret of how horrible we are’?”

Stan sighed and turned the page.

“James said the war was over, Plan Mike into action.”

“Do they even know English?” Ben asked, but Stan was grinning at the book.

“This is it!” He said. “This is what we need! Plan Mike must of been snitching on Mike and James telling us that the war was over was just a decoy!”

Ben slowly smiled, and Stan turned to the last page written on.

“Woke Mrs Wilson up, she found the party. We’ve won the war.”

Ben clambered over to where Stan was reading, pulling his camera up to his chest.

The flash filled the room once again and Stan felt a sense of fire in his heart, burning out all his earlier doubts and memories.

They’d done it. They’d found actual proof.

“James is wrong.” Stan said.

“How?” Ben asked, looking up at him.

“They haven’t won the war.” Stan snapped the book shut. “Not yet.”

 

**Beverly Marsh, trapped in a Geography Classroom**

“W-w-What? What d-do you m-mean it’s l-luh-locked?” Bill walked towards the door.

“I mean what I said. It’s locked.” Bev shook the door handle aggressively.

“M-m-maybe it’s a pull door and n-n-not a push.” Bill clung to his last strands of hope. “F-f-fuck.”

“Who the hell would’ve done it.” Bev scrunched her eyebrows together in thought. She had a pretty clear idea who, but she really didn’t want it to be who she thought it’d be.

“M-m-maybe it’s j-j-just Stan or someone p-p-pranking us?” Bill questioned timidly, knowing it was a pointless suggestion.

“Stan? You really think Stan would’ve done this? He’s at the other end of the school you dumbass.” Bev tilted her head, holding her hand out.

“Well I d-don’t know, j-j-just trying to th-th-think of positives.” Bill muttered.

“God what if we’re here for a whole day? What if we starve to death?”

“I h-h-highly doubt that-“ Bill said, Bev carrying on.

“What if someone comes in to see our dead bodies? Rotting away in a geography class room? I better become a fossil if I die in here-“

“Bev!” Bill yelled over her. “S-s-stop overthinking! Th-the worst that w-w-will happen is a t-t-teacher will f-find is in here.”

“Still wanna become a fossil.” Bev murmured, going to a wall and sliding down it.

“I’m s-sure you’ll b-b-be a beautiful f-f-fossil.” Bill sat on a table opposite her.

Bev smiled, looking down in the hope of hiding the pink tint that was slowly rising to her cheeks.

“Should we start looking for evidence then? May as well do what we came here to do.” Bev tilt her head back on the wall.

“I-its a g-g-ge-geography r-room, Bev, we a-a-aren’t g-gonna find anything.” Bill smiled apologetically.

Bev groaned, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, making her shirt sleeves ride up her shoulder.

“Hey, w-w-whats that?” Bill nodded at Bev’s shoulder and pointed. She rapidly pulled the sleeve down.

“What’s what?” She asked innocently.

“Th-that.” Bill leant forward and gently lifted the sleeve again, exposing a small white line.

“I uh can’t see it, describe it.” She said, eyes widening slightly.

“Bev...” He bent closer.

“What?”

“It k-kinda looks l-like a scar.” Bill said quietly.

“Pfft, a scar? Probably just scratched my arm on a door or something.” Bev laughed, a little too loudly.

He frowned, shaking his head. “I d-d-don’t think it l-l-looks accidental.”

“You an expert on scars now?” Bev asked, pulling her shoulder away from him.

“I’m j-j-Just being c-c-concerned.” Bill sat back on the table. “Seriously th-th-though, h-h-how l-long has it b-b-been there?”

“I don’t know, like I said I can’t see it, it’s probably nothing.” Bev avoided making eye contact with Bill. He got up and walked away from Bev and looked around the room. “What are you doing?”

“W-W-waiting for you to trust m-m-me.” Bill deadpanned, still strolling around the room.

“I do trust you.” Bev folded her arms defensively.

“O-o-o-obviously n-not enough f-f-for you to t-t-tell me the t-truth.” Bill shrugged.

“I don’t have to tell you anything if I don’t want to.” Bev sassed.

“I’m n-n-not asking y-you to.” Bill looked back over at her. “I j-j-just wanna kn-know who I n-n-need to p-push off a c-c-cliff.”

Bev chuckled and tried throwing a pencil that was lying on the floor at Bill. “You wouldn’t be able to get a fingertip on him.”

“A h-h-him ok, p-progress progress.” Bill walked back over to Bev and sat on the table again. “I’m o-only joking Bev, y-y-you Don’t have t-t-tell me.”

Bev was silent for a few minutes, considering whether to actually say the words or let them haunt her for the rest of her life. Honestly, the second version sounded a lot more appealing than the first. She reached to feel the scar and squeezed her eyes shut. Really trying to forget how it was first made.

“I’m sor-“

“My dad.” Bev whispered.

“Wh- huh?” Bill asked, not sure he heard right.

“I said,” Bev swallowed. “My dad. The scar.”

“I am s-so sorry I d-d-didn’t-“ Bill stammered.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.” Bev attempted a smile, clearly failing. Bill got off the table and sat down next to her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“He uh, got annoyed with me becau-“

“Bev, y-y-you don’t have to say, I w-w-was joking a-about the t-trust thing.” Bill said slowly.

“Long story short.” Bev sighed, feeling hot tears prick at her eyes. “He hit me, and it cut pretty deep. No one was there, not even my mum, my dad didn’t care. No one did.” Tears were making their way to Bev’s cheeks.

“Bev I r-r-really am s-Sorry.” He pulled her into a hug, letting Bev’s tears soak his shirt. She melted into his touch and somehow felt safe for the first time. Even being stuck in a stuffy old geography class, she felt a little more free for the first time in years.

“Sorry for being such a mess.” Beverly chuckled, wiping her cheeks and placing a smile on her face.

“Don’t b-be.” Bill smiled.

Bev got up and straightened her shirt. “Now, help me find something to rip open that vent.”

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, following Richie into the Library**

“Richie.” Eddie called as Richie made a sharp right into the library. Eddie stood outside the door for a second, took a deep breath, and walked in.

“What do you think you are doing here?” Miss Park yelled from her desk.

“I um...” Eddie scanned the book shelves, looking for any sort of excuse. “I came here to collect the uh math text books, we have a supply and we needed some.”

“Teacher?” She tore off a piece of paper from a sheet and grabbed a pen.

“I don’t know his name.” Eddie slowly moved to a table near a book shelf.

“You’ve been here three months and you don’t know your math teacher name?!” She raised her voice again.

“Oh, I thought you meant the supply.” He peaked around the corners, looking for any sight of Richie.

“Well, tell me then!” Miss Park snapped.

“We’ll surely it doesn’t matter I only need text books-“

“I have given you an order!” She slammed her hands on the table, making a few top formers look up from their study session. “Did your mother not teach you any manners?”

Eddie’s mind flashed around the corners of his home, him staring up at his mother.

“Manners Eddie bear!”

His eyes darted to his corner desk, staring at the drugs that seemed to be jolting just by him looking at them.

“Don’t forget your safety, Eddie darling!”

Eddie was apparently stumbling back to what seemed his bed, tripping over what ever had knocked on the floor, his mother getting closer and closer to him.

“You be perfect now won’t you-!”

“I think that’s enough of that.” A familiar voice floated into Eddie’s head, snapping him back to reality.

“And what do you think you’re doing here?” Eddie hadn’t realised how close Miss Park had gotten to him.

“Well I was just getting some text books for math too, we were both sent of course.” Richie winked. Miss Park raised her eyebrows, not budging. “Well Eds, they seem to already have been collected. We’ll be on our way now, oh and Miss? The sign says ‘quiet is of the essence’, just remember that for next time.” Richie smiled and he carefully dragged Eddie out of the door and round the corner.

Eddie slid down the wall and sat down, rubbing his head slightly.

“You alright Eddie?” Richie asked, sitting down next to him.

“You really must be concerned, calling me by my actual name.” Eddie said, mildly surprised.

“Seriously Eds, are you ok? You seemed a little... shaken back there.” Richie said, taking off his glasses to clean them.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” Eddie looked down, annoyed at the fact he couldn’t even check if Richie was ok without having a panic attack. More at himself than anything.

“Eh, Don’t worry about me Eds.” Richie dismissed, placing the bottle glasses back onto his face. “Besides, there is nothing to worry about.”

“But what about a few minutes ago?” Eddie looked up at him.

“Just tired, that’s all.” He yawned dramatically. Eddie sighed, pulling his legs to his chest.

“You don’t have to lie to me you know.” Eddie said.

“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do Eds.” Richie replied quietly, looking straight down the corridor.

“So there is something-“

“Leave it.” Richie cut in. “Please, or for god’s worth it will fucking kill me.”

“I just want you to know,” Eddie placed his hand gently on Richie’s shoulder. “You can trust us, and if not them, you can trust me.”

Richie smiled and put his hand on top of Eddie’s. “I uh-“

“Shh!” Eddie suddenly hissed.

“The fu-“ Richie was stopped by Eddie’s hand being clamped over his face. Eddie peaked around the wall they were sitting behind and saw Miss Parker turn to head their way.

“Shit.” Eddie mouthed to Richie. His thought process was his dilemma to run and jump off the building or stay and stay super silent. It was too late to choose the first choice.

She walked past them, humming a tune to which sounded like would be in a cult, thankfully not taking a look behind her.

“Well wasn’t that a spiffingly close call.” Richie smirked.

“Let’s go.” Eddie got up, steadying himself.

“Wait what? Where?” Richie frowned.

“Library. We’re finding evidence aren’t we?” Eddie walked into the room, followed by Richie tumbling in behind him.

“Wha-“ Richie groaned.

“Look, I know you’re against it Trashmouth, but please just help me anyway.” Eddie sighed.

“Ok ok.” Richie rolled his eyes.

“So! If you were to hide evidence or something, where would you put it?”

“Not in a library.” Richie deadpanned. Eddie looked at him flatly. “Fine sorry.” He scanned the room.

“We also don’t have a lot of time-“

“Maybe the used book box?” Richie suggested quickly.

“Used book box?” Eddie questioned.

“Don’t question my expertise.” Richie chuckled.

“Ok.” Eddie shrugged and walked over to the box. He rummaged through it, not really sure what to look for. “Nothing.”

“Mm.” Richie walked around.

“You know if they are going to have this big fancy box the least they could do is make it stable.”

“Yeah-“ Richie stopped in his tracks. “Wait what did you say?”

“If you’re thinking about making a joke about my mum don’t even bother-“

“No Eds what did you say?” Richie walked over to him.

“I just said how they should make furniture stable...? Wait why?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows.

“So you’re saying it’s wobbling?” Richie shook the box.

Eddie clapped. “Indeed, Richie.”

“Huh, just like your mums legs after we-“

“Don’t.” Eddie groaned.

Richie bent down and checked underneath it. “I figured out the problem.”

“What is it? Also we don’t have long so I think we should move on-“

“A book, and it may be useful to you.” He paced it to Eddie. It read ‘Unleashed: pranking Volume 3’.

“This could be useful I guess, in fact there is a high chance it was used by south and west, but anyone could’ve used it.” Eddie shook his head. “Miss will be back in a minute anyway, we should look around more.”

“Just trying to help.” Richie muttered, throwing the book onto the near by sofa. “Wait what is that.”

“Hmm?” Eddie called from the desk.

“That sheet of paper that fell out of it.” Richie pointed and walked over to it.

“Well don’t just stand there, read what it says.” Said Eddie.

“Christ, I’m not even doing anything and I’m still getting caught up in this.” Richie said as he picked up the paper.

“You not doing anything is part of the problem right now, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Right well it says: ‘book mark.’ Wow isn’t that fucking gut wrenching.” Richie picked up the book and threw the book mark back where it was.

“That all it says? Seriously is that it?” Eddie walked over to him.

“What more do you want me to do? Go and analyse the shit out of it like our English teacher?” Richie asked defensively.

Eddie ignored this comment and opened up the book. “Holy...” The page was on ‘hair tricks and tips!’ “Richie look!”

“Fuck well that certainly gives some shit away.” Richie started to look a little more interested now. “Pass that book mark again?”

Eddie handed it over and he scanned the whole of it.

“Ah ha! It says right here: ‘belonging of first years, SW.’ Eds, I think this is what we need!” Richie exclaimed.

“Will you please stop calling me Eds?” Eddie groaned.

“Not even after we die little Eds.” Richie winked.

Eddie rolled his eyes and picked up the book, almost dropping it when he heard the door smack open. He and Richie jumped behind a sofa, neither of them daring to breathe.

“And then another student came and they both left! You don’t know how close I was to following them out and bringing the cane!” Miss Park’s voice banged in, her sentence making Eddie’s breath hitch. Richie must of heard because he looked over and nodded reassuringly.

“How the fuck are we supposed to get out?” Eddie breathed as Miss Park carried on talking on the phone.

Richie stayed quiet for a moment before speaking. “Don’t fret, pet, uncle Richard has a plan.”

He crawled over to a table which was stuck in between two book shelves and poked the person who was sitting in it, making her jump out of her skin. After a while of Richie whispering, she nodded and got up, walking to the desk.

“So uh, Miss Park?”

“This should buy us some time.” Richie crawled back over to Eddie.

“B-But what if she gets the cane.” Eddie stuttered worryingly.

“She won’t need to because her blind ass won’t find us.” Richie replied. He held out his hand for Eddie to take it and said, “ready?”

Eddie drew in a deep breath and took it, nodding.

They crawled out of their hiding space, making sure to be bellow the eye level of the desk. Richie suddenly stopped.

“What the fuck Richie?!” Eddie hissed, panic settling into his gut.

“I need to fucking sneeze!” He panted. With all the strength Eddie had, he dragged Richie out of the door and therw him violently around the corner. “Jesus Eds, you have some mighty strength there!”

“Thanks miss!” The girl who helped them called and walked out of the library. “You guys need to go, she’s leaving again and there is high chance of we spotting you.”

“She didn’t last time.” Eddie replied.

“Well now she has her glasses on so I recommend you leave, she isn’t in a great mood, thanks to you.” She grinned at Richie.

“When isn’t she in a bad mood?” Richie shrugged, standing up. “Thanks by the way, we owe you one.”

“You sure do.” She chuckled.

“We didn’t catch your name?”

“Amy, Amy Cridle.” She smiled and walked back into the library.

“Did some one switch up the heater cause man! It’s getting hot in he-“

“Let’s go.” Eddie didn’t even look back to see if Richie was following this time.

“Jealous Eds?” He smirked.

“Yeah, of her ass.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“All jokes aside, Eds, thank you.” He smiled at Eddie.

Above all that happened that period, Eddie just hoped Richie knew that he could trust him, even if Richie hadn’t told him what was bothering him.

He just wished he would trust Eddie as Eddie trusted him.

 

 **Beverly Marsh, still stuck in the Geography Classroom**  
Bev stood on a chair, pressing her hands against the air vent.

“Gu-gu-give it up-“ Bill mumbled from where he was sitting. “It’s n-n-not worth i-it.”

Bev pressed her hands even more firmly against it. Nothing happened.

“Bullshit.” She huffed, jumped down from the chair and walking towards the table Bill was sitting on.

“I still don’t get it.” Bev said, sliding onto the edge of the table. “How did it just lock? These doors aren’t automatic.”

“We mu-mu-must of got lu-lock-locked in.” Bill said, head resting into his arms. “Like with Stu-stu-stan.”

“Ugh.”

Bill tilted his head so he was looking at Bev, and she felt her face heat up under his gaze.

Which was strange. Because it was Bill Denbrough. And Bill Denbrough never just to make her feel intimidated.

“There’s g-g-gotta be su-some way o-ou-out.” Bill said, eyes fluttering off Bev’s face and onto the severely locked window.

“Of course, the janitor will eventually find us.” Bev said, grabbing onto any sense of reassurance she could.

“That cu-cu-could take f-f-fore-forever.” Bill grumbled.

“Never knew how much you wanted to get away from me.” Bev joked.

“N-no!” Bill said quickly. “No, I du-du-don’t, it’s ju-just-“

“I’m joking!” Bev said, smiling. “I know how much you love me really.”

Bill shut his mouth, blush creeping up his neck.

And suddenly the room felt very tense. And there was absolutely no reason for it to feel this way. Because it was only Bill Denbrough. Her friend. So why did she feel so awkward standing there? And why was her heart speeding up in her chest? And why-

“Prize for overthinking, you’d grab it.” Bev whispered to herself.

She turned around and walked to the window, trying to think of anything but Bill.

“Eh-eh-anything here to du-do?” Bill asked. Bev focused all her attention on a mark on the wall. “Apart fr-fr-from Math w-work?”

Bev laughed a second too late and turned back around.

Bill was looking at her expectedly, soft smile on his face.

“We could do something.” She suggested, more timid than usual. She coughed, and spoke louder. “If you want to, I guess.”

Bill nodded and got up, walking towards Bev.

Walking towards her carefully, she noticed. He was never careful with her before. They were always the opposite of careful. They were loud and noisy and happy.

What the hell was going on?

“Uh.” Bill said, looking at his feet. “Wu-wu-would you ruh-ruh-rather?”

Bev shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

Bill walked over to a space on the floor and Bev followed, thoughts rAcing.

Bill Denbrough was Bill Denbrough. He was kind, and brave, and funny. He was her friend, her best friend. And they had always been so open with each other.

So why did she feel like double checking her words before she spoke? What was she so scared of Bill knowing? Was she scared? Or flustered. Or confused. She was definitely confused.

“Keep it together.” She whispered. “It’s just the stress of being locked in this room.”

They both sat down, and Bill smiled awkwardly at her before making a high humming sound he always did when he was thinking.

“Wuh-wuh-would you ru-rather listen to Bu-blake for an hour or li-li-listen to Gu-gu-greta.”

Bev laughed and made a face, thinking it over.

“Greta.” She said. “It already happens every day.”

Bill laughed and nodded his head. “G-g-good point.” He said.

“Okay, your go.” Bev said, leaning forward. “Would you rather lick a table in the Art room or have triple English?”

Bill’s eyes widened, like Bev had just given him one of the hardest decisions of his life.

“You’re actually considering this, huh?” Bev asked.

Bill didn’t reply, and Bev had never noticed how green his eyes actually were. Especially in the light. They looked like a tropical sea.

Bill turned to look at her and Bev quickly looked away, like she wasn’t supposed to be looking at him.

Which was stupid. It was Bill, her friend. Why on earth wouldn’t she be allowed to look at his eyes? They were eyes, there was nothing romantic about eyes. Nothing.

Wait.

“Lick the t-t-table.” Bill said seriously.

“What?” Bev asked, her thoughts being snatched away.

“Lu-lu-like the t-table.” Bill repeated. “Mrs Foy would ku-ku-kill me in tr-triple English.”

Bev laughed, trying to focus on what they were doing. Which was...

“Yuh-your go.” Bill said, and Bev remembered they were in the middle of would you rather.

“Nah, I need some air.” Bev said, shuffling up to a standing position.

“Slight pru-pru-problem.” Bill said. “W-we’re locked i-in.”

Bev continued to walk towards her chair from earlier, not sure what to say. Joke? Say what she was actually doing? Breakdown?

It had been too long since Bill had spoken. No point replying now. But what if he found it rude. Or odd. Or knew what was going on.

“Calm down.” She hissed to herself and, hey guys, today is the day Bev Marsh talks to herself every two seconds!

She stood up on the chair and continued to smack her arm against the air vent, dust flying down.

“It’s nu-nu-not going to work.” Bill said, still sitting on the floor.

“I.Have.To.Try.” Bev said, full on slamming the vent with her arm.

“W-w-woah, Bev!” Bill said, getting up.

Bev stopped and sighed. Her whole body ached and she felt the all too familiar prick in her eyes.

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong?” Bill asked, voice gentle.

“Nothing.” Bev said.

“You sh-sh-sure?” Bill continued to ask. “Nu-nu-nothing on your m-m-mind?”

I think I’m in love with you.

“Nothing, swear.” Bev said.

Bill tilted his head and Bev gave her best attempt at a smile, jumping off the chair.

“I’m fine, it’s just the lack of oxygen that’s proving difficult.” Bev said, trying to joke like normal. Like there was nothing wrong. Because there wasn’t. Anything wrong. At all.

Bill gave a small laugh but everything felt so off. So abnormal.

“Can I uh-uh-ask you su-some-something.” Bill asked. He sounded quite. Withdrawn.

“Sure.” Bev said, but shit her heart was hammering against her chest.

“Du-du-do you ruh-ruh-remember Mike’s pu-party?” Bill asked, eyes on Bev’s. “Wh-when we played t-t-truth it du-du-dare?”

“Of course I do.” Bev said. “I hadn’t laughed that hard in ages.”

“Ru-ru-right.” Bill continued. “Then r-r-remember the t-truth you were auh-auh-asked? If th-there w-was anyone in the room you would ku-ku-kiss?”

Bev’s mouth went dry. “Yeah.” She croaked.

“Who w-was it?”

Bev remembered the night. Greta had asked the question and she’d been so happy she didn’t really think of the consequences. How what she was about to say might come up again. She had been so stupid.

“Bev, would you kiss anyone in here?”

She could of lied and answered no. Simple, really. But everyone else was being honest so she thought about it. Actually thought about it.

And yes, there was someone in the room who she would kiss. God, she was so dense, she hadn’t realised how screwed she was at the time. But she thought kissing them wouldn’t be so bad. Actually, she’s thought about it a few times.

And even as she answered ‘yes’, she didn’t know what it meant. How much she actually liked this person.

But now she did. And at the end of the day, she couldn’t always run in circles, away from her feelings. She’d only get cornered again and again. There was no hiding. Just being brave and owing up.

Bev looked at Bill, into his green eyes and put everything on the line.

“You.”

 

 **Mike Hanlon, leading Buffy to the sick bay**  
“Why are we doing this again?” Buffy asked, following a anxious Mike Hanlon as he hurried down the hallway.

“To find evidence, did you listen to anything Bev said?” Mike asked, not bothering to look back.

“Right.” Buffy said. “I just wanted to skive, honestly.”

Mike didn’t reply but Buffy went on.

“You know, the loser club thing you have going on is nice and all but why do you become mini detectives whenever something slightly out of the ordinary happens? Like, if you’re going with the crime troop why don’t you call yourself the mystery gang or something?”

Mike stopped and Buffy did too, slowing down so she was standing next to him.

“Listen, if you really don’t want to help then you can go back to Math.” Mike said, feeling his patience run on a thin line.

“Run me through the plan again?” Buffy said, and Mike continued to walk.

“We go to the sick bay to find files on their behaviour. Bev thinks it could be a lead and I agree. Knowing their weakness will be good.”

“And the people in the sick bay...?” Buffy asked.

“Will have to accept the fact that me and you have been asked by Matron to help out.”

“‘Kay.” Buffy grinned. “If you’re sure.”

Mike was sure, and he hoped his fast steps made it clear.

Mike didn’t really know Buffy too well. He’d been with her a lot, with her being in East Tower, but they’d never really talked. She seemed nice, if a bit outspoken, but Mike thought she was nice. The again, Mike had a tendency to trust people easily.

They both rounded the corner and Mike could recall the path to the sick bay now.

“Hold up.” Buffy said, and Mike spun around to see her trying to open her bag. “Don’t happen to have a cigarette, do you?”

“What do you need a cigarette for?” Mike asked, taking a step towards her.

“To smoke.” Buffy replied. “Honestly Hanlon, you’re too innocent for your own good.”

Mike felt his cheeks heat up, and balanced on his right leg awkwardly. He really didn’t want to rush her and seem like a bore but he also didn’t want to get caught. This was already pushing Mike’s rebellion enough, and he really couldn’t deal with a detention. There were more important things to do.

Like find something to help, his mind screamed at him.

Buffy had found a cigarette pack at the bottom of her bag, and was squeezing it open, pulling out a singular one and lighting it with a match.

She looked at Mike hard for a few seconds, cigarette held between her fingers.

Mike looked around nervously and Buffy snickered quietly.

“Always this jumpy?” She asked, a soft twinkle in her eyes.

“I-“ Mike said, not really sure what to say. “It depends on who I’m particularly trying to find evidence on.”

Buffy gave another laugh and blew out some smoke, it circling her face.

“We can walk again in a minute or whatever.” She said, leaning back against the wall. Mike went and sat on the window still opposite. “I just really need a break. I’m thinking a lot.”

“It’s fine.” Mike said quietly.

Despite having six of the best people in the world as his friends, Mike still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act in-front of Buffy. Growing up on the farm, Mike didn’t really have many chances to talk to people, but he didn’t ever feel the need to. His father had been his best friend and Mike hadn’t ever felt like he needed anyone else. He enjoyed life, so coming to Whitemore had definitely thrown the problem of friends at him.

Yet everything with the Losers had felt natural from the start. No words were hard to speak, and not once at Mike felt out of place. Like Stan has said, it was as if they were born to meet each other. Born to be friends.

Soulmates.

And that made Mike feel a bubbly, ethereal feeling in his stomach. Like someone was looking over them. Or something. Not making their choices but watching over them. As if they all had a point. A purpose. And meeting each other was one of them.

It reassured Mike, just slightly.

“You’re thinking hard.” Buffy said, look at him carefully.

“Yeah.” Mike said, shaking his train of thoughts away. “Easy to get carried away, yanno?”

Buffy nodded slowly, looking out the window on the corridor. She was leant against the wall, one leg raised.

Mike tried to think back to meeting Stan, how scared he’d been. But to see how Stan had warmed up to him, Mike realised that he wasn’t the only nervous one at the school.

“You... good?” Mike asked, trying the same tactic he had on Stan.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him.

“Anything you want to...” Mike tried to think what him and the Losers talked about. “open up about?”

Buffy tilted her head, dark curls tumbling over her shoulder. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No!” Mike said, not sure what she was getting at. “I’m just trying to... talk.”

“You’re pretty shit at it.” Buffy said.

Mike recoiled at Buffy’s harshness and she smiled softly.

“Didn’t mean it like that.” She said. “Just being open with you.”

“Mmm.” Mike said, not sure what he should say. Buffy kept switching from hot and cold and it was hard to keep up.

“So, is there something you want to talk about?” Buffy asked, smoking trailing up from her cigarette.

“I didn’t-“ Mike started, but Buffy cut him off.

“Don’t trust me?” Buffy asked, facing him. “What, I’m I too stand-offish for you? Well, I’m hurt, truly.”

Mike didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything.

“You want to speak?” Buffy asked. “About anything?”

“I don’t know.” Mike said honestly.

“Well, I’ll talk. I think it’s stupid how people are too scared to say how they feel.” Buffy said, speaking almost to herself. “Like, what’s so wrong with people having feelings? And why can’t we say how we feel? What’s so goddam scary about emotions? I know people call me outspoken or whatever, but that’s just because I’m open with what I think. People just like to make a big deal out of nothing, you know?”

“Uh.” Mike said, staring at Buffy. “So you did want to talk about something?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and looked back out the window.

“Maybe if people weren’t such cowards, people could be themselves more.” She said, a distant look in her eyes. “I keep saying that, one day, people will learn to accept each other. But I have my doubts.”

Mike really was lost for words this time. He watched Buffy’s cigarette clutched neatly from her fingers, smoke floating up.

“My Dad says people are scared of what they don’t know.” Mike said quietly.

“Being scared isn’t an excuse to be ignorant.” Buffy replied.

She was right, Mike thought. Even if you don’t completely know why something is the way it is, that doesn’t mean you have to crush it all out. People are so certain that change is bad, they don’t even face the mirror and question their behaviour.

“Do you often think this?” Mike asked.

“Yeah.” Buffy said. “Especially at night. Sometimes I’ll be laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and ask myself why the fuck it matters if I like girls instead of boys. It isn’t going to end the world. The sun isn’t going to explode. It’s not going to hurt anybody. It’s just love. That’s all there is to it. So why can’t girls love girls and boys love boys? What’s so scary about it?”

“You’re gay?” Mike asked.

“Mmm.” Buffy mumbled. “What, scared I’m going to be the cause of the end of humanity?”

“No!” Mike said, perfectly fine with Buffy liking girls. “You’re just so open with it. Like, we’ve hardly talked before.”

“I don’t see a reason to hide it.” Buffy said calmly. “Besides, I guessed you wouldn’t care. Didn’t seem the homophobic type.”

Mike thought Buffy deserved something more for being so brave. He knew it wasn’t easy to say those words, and for her to tell him? It made him feel like she trusted him, just a little.

“Should we get going know?” Buffy asked, pinching the end of her cigarette.

“Sure.” Mike said, moving away from the window. Buffy flicked her cigarette out of it and they both headed off.

“You been to the sick bay before?” Buffy asked, walking next to Mike this time.

“Once.” Mike said, not wanting to talk about the whole ‘self esteem’ talk he had gotten. “I helped Matron out and saw the files near the back.”

“Why don’t they keep them in the heads office?” Buffy asked.

“I guess it also has their medical files or something similar.”

“Ah.”

After a short walk the two friends had made it to the sick ward.

There was a line of tall windows, showing the inside of the ward. The doors were shut but Mike knew they weren’t locked or anything. Now they just needed to get in safe.

“Think we can do this before bell?” Buffy asked, tilting her head to see in.

“We’ll have to try.” Mike said.

He took a few steps forward, reaching out when Buffy gave a small cry of ‘Wait!’ and he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, turning to see her.

“It’s all very well lying to the patients but we can’t really tell Matron herself that she let us help.”

Mike froze. “Shit.” He muttered, having completely forgot about Matron.

“We can distract her.” Buffy suggested, swaying awkwardly. “Like, make her leave the ward for ten minutes and the other person goes in to check the files.”

“Yes!” Mike said, snapping his fingers and making Buffy jump. “Okay, I’ll go in and you distract.”

Buffy nodded and pushed Mike behind the door hurriedly. Then, she ran dramatically through the doors, yelling.

“Matron! Matron! Oh Gosh, please help!”

Mike pressed himself flat against the wall, listening in.

“What’s wrong, girl?” The crisp voice of Matron snapped.

“I was going to uh... the loo when I saw someone flat on the ground! They must of fallen!”

A loud shuffle and then Buffy and Matron emerged from the sick bay, Matron telling Buffy to take her to the person.

Mike waited until they’d rounded the corner before walking into the ward.

The low chatter stopped and Mike felt everyone’s eyes on him.

“Uh.” He stuttered. “Matron asked me to help so... I came to erm... help.”

No one said anything so Mike hurried to the end of the room, slipping into Matron’s office.

He shut the door carefully and looked around. Shelves reaching to the ceiling were full of papers and books, all surrounding a small desk and chair.

Mike scanned the shelf, not willing to waste any time. He didn’t know how long Buffy could keep Matron away and he didn’t want to experiment either.

He drew his figure across the shelf until he reached a section labelled ‘First Years’. It was split into the four Towers, and Mike immediately went to West, pulling random files out and checking the names.

He paused when he saw Luke’s files, too a moment to consider it, then pulled it out.

He flipped it open and was met with the expected; Full name, birthday, photo. He turned the page which was headed with BEHAVIOUR is large, block letters.

“Come on.” Mike whispered to himself, skimming down the text. He found something that interested him, and read it under his breathe.

“Suspended twice from Red Balloon Academy. Was pulled out by parents who were worried about the lack school rules. Orange Card, close watch.”

Mike snapped the file shut, mind racing with one thousand thoughts.

All this really confirmed was that Luke was an asshole, something they could of had a fair guess at already. But there was something else.

West and South were pretty bad, but surely they wouldn’t get suspended? Luke could be exactly the thing the other Towers needed to fuel the war, and Mike didn’t like that at all.

Also, Red Balloon academy rung a bell in Mike’s head...

“Thank Goodness it wasn’t worse.” The voice of Matron said, and Mike jumped up.

He stuffed the file back in what he hoped was the right placed and run out of the office, all the way to the door.

He looked through a slim gap and saw Matron and Buffy walking right towards him.

Buffy caught sight of him and then started coughing violently.

“I say!” Matron exclaimed in shock, and turned back to Buffy, leaving enough time for Mike to slip out the door.

Buffy coughed violently, doubling over.

“Buffy!” Mike called, positioned as if he’d just come up the corridor. “Mrs sent me to find you after you didn’t return from the lavatory!”

Buffy gave him a wide eyed look and Mike got the feeling he was overdoing it slightly.

“Why, she came to me with a problem that appears to of solved itself.” Matron said, patting Buffy on the back.

“I better get doing now.” Buffy said, standing up straight. “Thanks a bunch, Matron.”

Matron walked back into the Sick Bay and Mike and Buffy walked down the corridor, trying to act as mature as they could before rounding the corner.

“Saved by your quick thinking, ay?” Mike asked.

Buffy laughed and nudged him. “So, did you find anything?” She asked.

“Luke’s file.” Mike said.

“The new kid?”

“Yeah.” Mike continued. “I didn’t find any weaknesses. Quite the opposite, really. He’d been suspended twice from his old school for acting up. Guess his parents had enough and sent him here.”

“Twice?!” Buffy asked. “Jee, that’s a lot.”

“I know.” Mike said. “Which worries me. What if Luke hasn’t dropped his behaviour? That just gives West and South a leg up, which I really don’t want.”

Buffy nodded and they walked in silence for a bit, heading back to here Bev had told them to meet.

“Hey, Mike?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah?”

“Earlier, you did this thing I use to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Think there was one thing in particular I had to say.” Buffy said. “Like I was watching my words too carefully.”

“I don’t-“ Mike begun.

“I can tell.” Buffy said. “If you don’t know the ‘right’ thing to say, you don’t say anything. But that’s not how you should think, Mike! Who you are is who you are. If society doesn’t like that then fuck all of them. Don’t be someone different for someone else, okay?”

Mike looked at how open she look and part of him envied that. Because, no matter how much he wanted to, Mike felt like apart of him would always double check his words. Like he could never be completely satisfied with himself.

“I’ll try.” Mike said. “Promise.”

 

  **Beverly Marsh, you should already know where**

It had been half an hour since Bev had told Bill about the night at the party.

His eyes had burned into hers and she found she couldn’t look at him for a second longer. She turned and walked over to the window sill, sitting down and hoping Bill wouldn’t say anything.

He hadn’t, to her relief, and she’d been looking out the window for some time now, thinking.

Why was love so damm complicated? Why couldn’t it be easy to know if you liked someone and if someone liked you back. And why on earth did love hurt so much?

Bev wasn’t sure what relationships were supposed to be like, but her crush on Bill wasn’t anything drastic. She didn’t blush when she talked to him, or try to impress him. She just always thought of him, like a mini ache.

A dull fire in her heart that he could only infuse more.

She sighed, beginning to scrap the windowsill with her fingernail. It made a dull scratching noise, speeding up when she dragged her figure more aggressively.

It almost felt like her finger was on fire, and it felt good. Good to feel something physically instead of emotionally.

“Bu-bu-bev?” Bill asked quietly.

“What?” Bev snapped, stopping her scratching.

She immediately felt bad and grimaced in Bill’s direction.

“Sorry.” She said. “It’s just the room and... yanno.”

“Yuh-yeah.” Bill said. “It’s f-f-fine.”

Bev fell back against the window. She was losing her mind. Not being able to talk to one of the Losers about it, not being able to think properly.

The sound of soft footsteps made her start, and she looked down at Bill. He was heading towards her, almost tenderly.

Why did she ever tell him? That stupid word had ruined everything. In the end, she didn’t mind if he didn’t like her back, as long as he was still her friend. But now? Had she scared him away? Was it going to be the same between them? And because of her, the Losers would be effected too.

No, she couldn’t let that happen. They had to stick together. There was seven of them. Lucky seven. No more, no less.

“Mind if I juh-juh-join you?” Bill asked.

Bev shrugged, and he lifted himself up, sitting on the windowsill.

They both sat there for a while, looking anywhere but each other’s eyes. Bev could feel something between them, like a door she couldn’t quite open.

Everything was changing.

“Yuh-you got a p-p-pen?” Bill asked, voice slicing the coldness that had settled in the room.

“Uh.” Bev said. “Yeah, hold on.”

She reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out her water-fountain pen. She handed it over to Bill silently, not really caring what he was going to do with it.

“Th-th-thanks.” Bill said, giving her a small smile that made the fire in Bev’s heart illuminate even more.

He took it off her gently, fingers brushing. Without saying a word, he leant over and carefully began to scratch the windowsill with Bev’s pen.

Bev tilted her head to try and see what Bill was doing. His arms were moving out almost elegantly, gliding across the sill as the pen engraved the letter “B” into the wood.

His tongue was out slightly, face scrunched in total concentration. Bev watched as he started to scratch “I”, eyes travelling down the window.

Other names and initials were inscribed into the wood. She let her finger trailed across them all, making its way over the uneven surface.

She stopped at a cluster of initials, looking at them carefully. She brushed her thumb over A.M, thinking hard.

Yes, she liked Bill. She liked him a lot. But she cared about her friends, and if her silly crush was going to put that on the line then was it worth it?

Was anything worth it, really? The seven of them had gone through a lot worse, and she sure as hell hadn’t had an easy life. So why did this seem so important?

Because it was a chance for something? Something she so desperately wanted, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it? Was that small fire in her heart really small? Because it felt like it was burning through her whole body.

The scratching sounds stopped, letting the deafening silence return to the room.

Bill moved his hand away sheepishly and Bev looked over.

‘Bill + Bev’ was scratched neatly into the wood.

Bev looked up at Bill, her eyes resting on his apprehensive face.

“Does this mean anything?” She asked quietly.

Bill nodded slowly and her lungs filled with the smoke from her heart, making it hard to breathe. It grew, burning through her whole body. Everything felt warm, pressing up against her.

And suddenly she knew what to do.

The fire was still cracking through her but she leaned forward very slightly.

Bill’s eyes widened, but he leaned, too.

Until there was only a small space between them. Bev was surprised her body wasn’t alight with flames yet. This was it.

There lips were seconds away from touching when the door swung open loudly and they jumped apart.

“There you guys are!” The voice of Richie Tozier said from the doorway. “We’ve been looking forever!”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS SO LONG SKSKSK  
> AnywHo we hope you enjoyed, Bill and Bev are at tipping point in terms of their relationship hehe (and reddie is realllll). Also, peak at Buffy’s character


	18. Maybe This Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some Bilverly and the final act for the war

**Ben Hanscom, in North’s dorm**  
Since yesterday’s discoveries, Whitemore had been rather uneventful. The seven Losers and Buffy returned back to lessons, and East and North greeted them silently. Classes dragged on and by the end of the day, Ben was too tired to go through all the evidence they’d found. So, East and North went to bed with promises to talk in the morning.

The sun shone through the crack in the curtains, making Ben wince and roll around in his bed. His sheets were comfy, and thoughts of the war were far from his brain.

Not for long, though.

“Wake up you pussies!” The lovely voice of Richie Tozier yelled from the other end of the dorm. “We have a long day today, so get up and-!”

“Gu-gu-go away.” Bill mumbled sleepily.

“Not a chance, Big Bill.” Richie said, and Ben would have happily wacked Richie with his pillow at that moment.

However, ten long minutes later, the whole of North was up and dressed, all looking around with tried eyes.

“You think East will be up?” Stan asked, hiding a yawn with his hand.

“Hope so.” Ben said. “If not, Richie would of woken us up for nothing. Then it would feel like a loss.”

“Don’t worry, I’d happily strangle him if so.” Stan replied.

The trailed out of their dorm quietly, making sure as to not wake anyone else up.

Ben hoped that they could discuss this quickly then get back to bed. He didn’t want to drag the rest down but talking about revenge at five am wasn’t really Ben’s cup of tea. He would of much preferred for the war to be over and for all of them to get on with their life at Whitemore, and hopefully this prank would ensure that. Whatever “this prank” would be.

Bill opened the door to their common room as quietly as he could, and orange light spilled out.

North slipped in. East were already there, seating around the lit fire place in their dressing gowns and slippers.

“Been here for long?” Ben asked them, sitting next to Bev on the sofa.

“Minute or so.” Bev said. “Enough time to light the fire, at least.”

The crackling took over the room for a moment, no one speaking. The room they had come to love, the one that had given them all a place over the last five months felt reassuring once again.

Ben felt hopeful.

“So.” Chloe said, sending the silence away. “What did you find?”

With some questions from the others, the Losers and Buffy told the story of what they found, exaggerating when it came to running away from teachers who, according to Eddie, were “about to whip us half to death”.

The stories finished in sync, and Ben realised that Bev and Bill hadn’t spoken once. Actually, both of them looked distant, like something was playing in their minds.

“Bev?” Ben asked, placing a hand on her shoulder very gently.

“Huh?” Bev asked, jumping slightly.

“You and Bill find anything?” Alison asked, speaking for Ben.

“Oh uh,” Bev trailed off, eyes meeting Bill’s. “No, we got locked in and by the time we were let out it was... over.”

Bill nodded solemnly.

“That it?” Mike asked. “You guys were in there for hours.”

Bev stared at the wall intensely, not speaking. Red had started to creep up Bill’s neck, and he shrunk into himself.

“Th-th-that’s au-all.”

But it didn’t seem like all. There was something else, Ben felt it.

Even though he didn’t think he actually wanted to know what “it” was.

“So what now?” Buffy asked. Her arms were crossed, and there was something powerful about her.

“We get them back.” Stan said simply. “And we have enough evidence to end this war. One last prank, then it’s done. Over.”

“Finally.” Eddie mumbled. “This war has gone on long enough.”

“13 chapters, to be exact.” Stan replied.

“Eh-eh-any ideas?” Bill asked the common room.

No one spoke for a while, and Ben could almost hear their thoughts, working away.

Things crossed his mind in a whizz, but nothing seemed that clever. That smart. Nothing ensued that they couldn’t be caught and held down again.

Then something came to him. Something so simple yet so genius.

“What if we do exactly as Matron said?” Ben asked.

“Self esteem exercises?” Mike asked.

“She gave you self-esteem exercises?” Stan asked Mike, turning to face him. “Why?”

“I uh-“ Mike started, but got cut off.

“Let Ben speak.” Bev said. She smiled warmly at him and his heart chose that precise moment to do a backflip.

“Yeah.” Ben stammered, trying to remember his idea. “Well uh... Matron. She said, ages ago, that the best way to win was to play them at their own game. And that’s exactly what we can do.”

Ben finished dramatically, smiling around the room.

“You gonna tell us the plan or...” Richie asked, ruining Ben’s mysterious air.

“Yeah well.” Ben said, shifting on the sofa. “It’s quite simple, actually. We talk about having a sleepover tonight, while West and South are around. We’ll say it’s to celebrate or something, and they’ll overhear it. Then, they’ll get a teacher and say we’re partying. But when the teachers come to check, we’ll be asleep. Then-“

“The West and South will get blamed!” Bev cried. “Ben that’s genius.”

“Thanks.” Ben stammered, feeling to caught up to tell her that is wasn’t that smart.

“How do we know for sure they’ll tell?” Eric asked.

“The bait will be too big.” Ben said.

“We’re going fishing?” Emily asked, and Buffy sighed.

“When should we start?” Stan asked. He glanced out the window at the sliver of sun that was rising over Whitemore.

“As soon as we can.”

 

 **Eddie Kaspbrak, in a particularly slow Geography lesson**  
Geography class, for whatever reason, was dragging on.

Eddie checked the clock above the wall for what must of been the one hundredth time that lesson.

Big shocker, it hadn’t changed much.

Maybe it would of been easier to concentrate on his work if they hadn’t got the aspect of revenge planned for tonight. It was clouding Eddie’s mind up like fog on a window. He couldn’t think of anything without him going back to it eventually.

But that wasn’t all. He’d been thinking of Derry more recently.

This feeling wasn’t unusual. He normally thought too much (or worried too much, as Richie had told him) and he could never seem to shake a nervous thought completely away.

Worrying was good, his Mother had told him. But Eddie was beginning to believe that maybe his Mother wasn’t just wrong about his medication. Maybe a lot of things in his life weren’t true.

Like his Mother had placed certain chess pieces on the board of Eddie’s life and was playing more for her own gain than Eddie’s.

~“Don’t leave me, Eddie! You can’t do this to me! You’re a horrid boy, Eddie, if you do, and Eddie you can’t, you won’t!”~

He had taken it as motherly love, but now there was something else nagging at his brain.

His illnesses had been fake, yes, but his Mother only did that to protect him. To keep him safe. Not manipulating him, surely. She wouldn’t off...

Eddie dropped his head into his arms, new worries added to the mix.

“Eddie?” Emily’s small voice asked, taking Eddie back to the classroom.

“Yeah?” He asked. Emily was in East, and despite being in the same half, Eddie didn’t really know much about her. He knew she was often teased for not being the brightest, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for her.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked.

“Fine.” Eddie answered automaticity.

“You sure?” Emily asked quietly. She was looking at him in concern, head tilted slightly.

“Just thinking.” Eddie shrugged, crouching back against the wall. A good thing about being at the back of the wall was that sir hardly ever saw when he wasn’t doing the work.

“I think a lot.” Emily said, also leaning back. “It’s just not often about the work.”

Eddie smiled gently at this.

The sun was almost in the middle of the sky, and January light flooded the room.

It was nice, Eddie thought. The quiet scratch of pens brought a calm to the classroom that he desperately needed. His head was going at a hundred miles per hour and nothing really seemed to be slowing it down.

“Whatcha ya thinking about?” Emily asked. She was spinning her pen between her fingers.

“Stuff.” Eddie said. “Home.”

Ah, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Home wasn’t with his Mother. Not anymore. Home was here, in Whitemore with his true family.

But Eddie didn’t think he had the words to say this.

“I think about home sometimes.” Emily said in a dreamy sort of voice. “I miss my parents sometimes, but they write every other week, so it isn’t so bad. And they came at Christmas.”

“Yeah.” Eddie said, remembering his Mother’s desperate attempts to get him to come back to Derry.

“I suppose I’ll have to say goodbye to them one day.” Emily said. “Because everything ends at some point. But right now I still have them, even if I don’t see them much. So I’m not going to waste that.”

Eddie nodded, thinking distantly of his Dad who had died when he was five. Eddie couldn’t remember anything, really, but he missed him a lot. Especially when things got really bad with his Mum. He wondered how differently things would be if he was alive.

But that thought normally brought tears to Eddie’s eyes so he shut it out.

Their teacher was still sitting at his desk, marking a stack of books. The whisper of pens and tick of the clock were still the only sounds of the classroom, and Eddie remembered with a strange pang that he was meant to be writing a essay on the rainforests.

Fuck it.

Emily was twisting her pencil on her fingers, completely concentrated. Eddie remembered what Bev said about Emily being teased and thought that maybe she didn’t have many friends outside East. Maybe she was lost too.

“You miss much about your old school?” Eddie asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Not really.” Emily said, still looking at her pencil. “There were a few nice teachers but I prefer it here. It’s nicer.”

“Yeah.” Eddie agreed. “It almost feels magical, in a way.”

“Mmm.” Emily said, and looked away from her pencil. “You didn’t like your old place?”

“No.” Eddie said. “It was horrible. People would beat you up for no good reason. Which I guess makes Whitemore even better.”

Emily smiled sweetly at him. “Had it hard, huh?”

“I guess.” Eddie said, Emily’s smile calming him. “But it’s better now, right?”

“Better now.” Emily said slowly, nodding her head. Her eyes took up a sad, distant look and Eddie put his arm on her shoulder gently.

“Even if it doesn’t seem that great all the time, it is better.” He said. His whole heart felt for Emily, and it broke him to see her so upset.

“No, I agree.” Emily said. “But it still doesn’t help with everything people say to me. They act like, just because I’m stupid I’m also deaf. And it really hurts.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “But, if it’s any help, I don’t think you’re stupid.

“You’re a first.”

“I’m serious!” Eddie said, watching Emily carefully. “I think there’s more than one type of smart. Knowing algebra and reading quickly is one thing, but I think the real knowledge that’s worth knowing is just about life. Putting things into perspective, being a stronger person. And that’s what you do, Emily. So don’t underestimate yourself.”

Emily smiled again and Eddie felt himself smile as well.

“Maybe.” Emily said. “Yanno, I don’t get why you didn’t have friends before, Eddie. You’re cool.”

“You sound like Richie.” Eddie laughed lightly, thinking of Richie’s weird little terms he threw out that Eddie thought were actually pretty neat.

Emily shrugged and picked her pencil up again.

“Things are better now.” She mumbled to herself, eyes following the pencils movements.

Yeah, Eddie thought. Things are better.

 

**Stan Uris, at their lunch table**

So they had a plan. Maybe not a solid, unbreakable plan, but it was a plan at least. It would do the job, and apparently to most of east and north that’s all that mattered right now. Getting revenge.

“So, you all know what you have to do, right?” Bev said in a low voice to the pushed together canteen tables.

“Start laughing really loudly, ‘spot them’” Chloe signed inverted commas with her fingers. “And shh everybody and when they sit on that table.” She pointed to the table that was placed a meter away from them. “We talk in loud whispers about having a sleep over tonight.”

“Shit I should probably start listening more.” Richie muttered.

“Wait so are we all doing the same thing or are different people doing specific bits or are half of us doing something and the other half do something els-“ Stan rambled before being cut off.

“Stan, calm down, just follow our lead and do what we do if you aren’t sure.” Mike smiled at him, and Stan nodded.

“They should be here any minute now, unless they have been kept back which I wouldn’t be totally surprised at.” Ben checked his watch and looked back up again.

“W-w-wh-What if th-they don’t sh-shuh-sh-show up?” Bill asked, making an annoying tapping sound with his fork on the plate.

“They will, I’ve learnt that teens, including myself, love food too much to miss lunch.” Mike chuckled.

“He’s not wrong.” Stan shrugged. The way they practically run to the front of the lunch queue like animals make them seem like they’ve never been fed before in their life. Stan actually wondered if they ever had been fed.

“Honestly I don’t even know why they want to get to this stuff quickly, it tastes like baby food.” Eddie manoeuvred some of his mash potato.

“Well not all baby food tastes bad.” Said Emily.

“I wasn’t finished, it tastes like baby food after being thrown up by a baby.” Eddie finished. Stan could’ve gagged.

“And do you know this from experience?” Bev grinned.

“Guys!” Ben yelped suddenly.

“What?” They all questioned in unison.

“They’re here! Quick, Richie say something stupid.” Ben whispered urgently.

“Bill.” Richie smirked. “Ok sorry uh, why did I get the short straw of this?” Richie groaned. “You’re lucky this isn’t a dick measuring contest.”

The tables erupted into, hopefully, realistic laughter, making south and west turn their way in interest.

“Keep going until they sit down.” Bev said between aggressive chuckles.

They all nodded and now they were just going crazy. Richie rolled under the table sending Eddie into fits of actual giggles, smiling wildly. Bill threw himself onto the table making all of them start crying with laughter.

“Ok.” Bev wiped a tear which was streaming down her face. “They’ve sat down now.”

“Someone help Richie from under the table.” Mike pointed to Richie who looked like he had passed out, making Stan chuckle once again. Eddie reached and Richie suddenly seized his arm and pulled Eddie on top of him, sending them both back into laughter.

“Stage t-t-t-two.” Bill nodded.

“Oh my god I’m SO excited for tonight’s sleepover that is located in the common room at around five past midnight!” Alison whispered loudly.

“For fucks sake Alison.” Richie shook his head.

“I’ll wake you up at midnight ok? I’ll turn on my alarm.” Eddie whispered to Bev. Stan looked over to south and west and saw a couple looking their way and talking in hushed voices.

“Guys shh somebody will hear us!” Stan acted worried. “They’ll hear us, and and they’ll tell on us!”

“You are right! Why Stanley you are smarter than I thought.” Richie shook his head in disbelief.

“That enough?” Eddie genuinely whispered. Richie peeked around.

“I jolly well hope I don’t get in trouble this time!” Richie finished off and nodded. “Now we’re done.”

“Th-th-th-think they’ll b-b-buh-b-believe it.” Bill looked over to south and west who were now whispering entirely.

“Course they will.” Richie replied.

“They’ll pounce on anything they can to get us in trouble.” Eddie finished off Richie’s sentence.

Stan hoped all their ‘great’ acting skills went to good use and actually fuel the start of their plan. In reality, maybe it was a bit childish and stupid. But Stan thought, knew;

It was all fun and games.

 

**Bill Denbrough, heading to his dorm room**

Bill was confused. Which is understandable if you’re suddenly feeling a pit of fire burning in your heart and stomach every two seconds if you’ve never felt it before. He was just, out of it.

Bill would usually be up and ready for any prank they did on south and west, and don’t get him wrong, he is now, but every other minute or so his mind starts to wander onto different subjects.

Did he want the feeling there? Hell no. Did he dislike the feeling? God knows. Did he like, the feeling?

“Bill? Bill!” Mike snapped his fingers over Bill’s face.

“Wh-W-wha-wh-What?” Bill jumped.

“You were just sort of... staring, at nothing.” Ben said calmly.

“Oh s-s-Sorry.” Bill rubbed his head as if he were rubbing away a migraine. “P-p-p-pro-proceed.”

“We weren’t talki-“ Greta said flatly before being interrupted.

“We were wondering,” Richie quickly started speaking. “If you would set your alarm for ten to midnight.”

Almost the whole common room looked at Richie in utter confusion, but he just just looked at Bill until he got a reply. He clearly knew what he was doing.

“Sh-sh-sure.” Bill shrugged and went back to staring at the little crack on the whitewashed wall.

A couple of minutes later he felt somebody sit on the sofa next to him.

“Are you sure there is nothing on your mind?” Stan said quietly once the teens started talking again.

“Y-y-y-Yeah.” Bill said, not looking at Stan. “I’m f-f-fuh-f-fine.”

“I smell the lies.” Stan looked over at him, making Bill laugh lightly. “But Seriously if there is anything then just tell me.” He smiled.

“Thank you.” Bill said quietly and nodded.

About half an hour later the two dorms started to get up and walk out of the common room.

“Fingers crosses this works.” Chloe said as she and the rest of east followed down to their dorm.

“W-W-Wait Bev!” Bill called from the landing.

She turned around. “You ok?”

“C-c-can we t-t-t-talk?” Bill asked quietly.

“Of course.” Bev walked over to him leaning on the wall next to him. “What’s up?”

“L-l-l-listen, I d-d-duh-d-don’t know about y-y-you but I’m l-l-loosing my fucking m-mind.” Bill leant his head in the wall, shutting his eyes for a few seconds.

“You’re not alone.” Bev smiled sadly.

“I j-j-Just, I d-don’t know.” Bill had no idea how he was going to confess his attraction to the girl right in front of him.

“You can tell me.” Bev said gently.

You know what? Screw it. Bill thought to himself. What’s the worst that could go wrong? Hell a lot could, but Bill forced his brain to not list them.

“I uh-“ Bill said, being half deafened by his brain screaming at him. He sighed, maybe words wouldn’t do this time.

He grabbed Bev’s cheek gently and pushed his lips against hers, hearing her breath hitch. After a few seconds Bill pulled apart, neither of them saying anything at first.

“Is that what you wanted to say?” Bev chuckled, evidently hiding her blushed cheeks.

“I’m s-s-s-Sorry.” Bill shook his head, cursing himself for just taking advantage of the moment.

“Don’t be,” She smiled and started walking back to her dorm. Once she reached the door, she turned around one last time. “I liked it.” And with tht she pushed it open and left Bill in the landing. A smile pulled at his lips and he jumped around in triumph, leapt up the stairs and ran to his dorm.

That wasn’t too bad now was it? He thought to himself.

Not bad at all.

 

**Richie Tozier, in North’s dorm**

“Ok so, let’s plan what’s happening tonight.” Ben said as he lead the rest of north into their dorm. “How’s it gonna work?”

“We could all pretend to be asleep when a teacher comes.” Eddie suggested.

“That was kind of a no brainer.” Blake pointed out. Richie saw Eddie roll his eyes and look the other direction.

“Some of us probably won’t be pretending.” Mike chuckled quietly.

“Well then maybe just a few of us stay up, just to keep watch on what’s happening.” Eddie said, sitting down on his bed once he’d gotten changed. “Not much will probably happen anyway.”

“True,” Ben said. “So who wants to stay up?”

“Clearly not Eric.” Stan looked over at the passed out boy on his bed.

“I’ll happily stay up,” Richie volunteered.

“You know, for someone who was so completely against the idea of revenge, you sure are up for it tonight.” Stan deadpanned.

“You see Stanley, life’s an adventure, things are gonna change. But you know some things that won’t change? My amazingly toned body.” Richie flexed his biceps.

“Inspiring.” Blake said flatly

“Besides, I can’t go to sleep with ease without one of Eddie’s mum’s good night, sloppy kis-“

“Beep beep Richie.” Eddie cut Richie off. “Yeah i’ll stay up too. Can’t go to sleep with that image playing in my mind anyway.”

“You are whole heartedly welcome, Eds” Richie winked at him.

“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.” Eddie groaned.

“Hmm, weird way of pronouncing you love it.” Richie retorted.

“If you guys are finished.” Ben interrupted. “Who else wants to?”

“Bill will probably want to.” Said Mike.

“Speaking of Bill, where is he?” Stan asked, going into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“Probably sucking the face off of one of the gir-“ Richie was cut off when Bill walked through the door.

“There you are, we were wondering where you went.” Ben wide eyed Richie, telepathically telling him to not finish his sentence. Richie mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key away, smiled, then nodded.

“J-j-Just tying m-m-my shoe l-lace up. S-s-s-s-safety first r-right.” He grinned happily.

“Why safety of course! Protection is key!” Richie teased, Eddie soon slapping him on the arm. “Ow.”

“We were just talking about who’s gonna stay up tonight.” Stan said in a muffled voice from the bathroom.

“We assumed you would.” Eddie explained.

“Sh-sh-sure.” Bill nodded, a smiled still subtly settled at his lips.

“And what are you so chipper about?” Richie questioned in his famous British accent.

“J-j-j-just ex-exited to see r-r-revenge on south a-and west.” Bill tugged his pyjama shirt over his head.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Richie murmured.

“Shut up Trashmouth!” Eddie hissed, Richie threw his hands up in defence.

Richie slumped down on his bed, lying on his back, staring up to the ceiling. Of course he didn’t want the plan to be carried out. He wouldn’t of batted an eyelash if Luke hadn’t showed up, ruining everything. He would immediately assume that ol Richard Tozier went back to his old ways and he was the one who pranked them.

He would stroll up to him one day and maybe just knock the fuck out of him and maybe just tell to the whole school how much of a bully this Richie Tozier right here was! What would his friends think of him then?

Richie turned over in his bed.

Just when his mind was finally at some sort of ease with his past self, Luke has to parade in and put his brain at war once again. To think he thought going to Whitemore would actually be a turn for the better.

He turned back round onto his back.

But it was, he actually had friends who actually liked him. He didn’t actually scare them into being his friends. But what was the point? They would inevitably leave him anyway, once they find out how much of a dick he was in primary school. And all because of this ass hole named Luke, this worry that was always planted in the back of Richie’s mind would come to a flying reality.

Richie could’ve laughed, his life coming apart sort of seemed comical for some reason, and he was sure it would be to the rest of the whole fucking school.

Probably ya last night of having friends, Richard! Richie’s brain taunted. Make the most of it!

“Richie? Are you ok?” Eddie asked, looking over at him.

Richie rubbed his eyes and sat up once again. “Spiffing.”

“Ok w-w-well I sh-sh-should set m-m-my alarm.” Bill reached to his bedside table.

“You know I was joking about that, right?” Richie watched as Bill set up his clock.

“W-W-well it wasn’t a b-b-bad idea.” Bill placed it back on his desk.

“Never thought I’d hear that sentence.” Stan looked surprised.

“Neither did I.” Richie chuckled.

A couple of hours later, Bill, Richie and Eddie were the last ones awake, almost dying of boredom.

“I’m gonna pass out in a minute.” Eddie yawned for the fifteenth time that minute. Richie grabbed for his glass filled with water and was close to launching it at Eddie’s face. “Don’t you even fucking dare!”

“Just trying to help.” Richie put it back down again.

“Isn’t th-th-that like t-t-tuh-two months o-oh-old? Last time I s-s-saw you r-refresh that w-was last year.” Bill sniggered quietly, trying not to wake the others.

“Yeah Well I cant remember the last time you changed your hairstyle so.” Richie quickly retorted.

“Shh you’ll wake everybody.” Eddie hushed Richie, although he was half asleep so clearly didn’t realise he basically shouted that sentence. “How long now?”

“Uhh,” Bill leaned the whole way over his bed and checked. “Twenty minutes.”

“Wake me up when the teacher... come.” Eddie slid down onto his bed.

“Want me to tuck you in Eds.” Richie laughed softly.

“If you want.” Eddie mumbled. Richie laughed and shook his head, walking over to Eddie and pulling the duvet up around his shoulders. Richie’s only conclusion to this was: Eddie was tired and delusional.

“Bill are you crying?” Richie walked over back to his bed.

“I’m s-s-Sorry but th-that scene of t-t-t-tenderness and l-love just g-got to m- ow!” Bill put a hand over his heart, quickly moving it to his head when I pillow was launched at him.

“I will throw you.” Richie warned, still laughing slightly.

“Y-y-you wanna bet?” Bill threw the pillow back and started a pillow fight.

“Ah Billy boy, so sweet and unwise, I could beat you any day.” Richie pummelled him.

“You m-m-May have the s-s-strength,” bill struggled out of Richie’s grip. “but I h-h-have the smarts.” Bill suddenly turned and attacked from behind, sending them both into fits of trying-to-be-quiet-laughter.

Richie was just about to hit again when he heard a door latch opening. “Fuck!” He pushed Bill off his bed and collapsed down on it, and by the sound of things Bill did the same, turning off his bedside lamp as well. “Shit Bill what about the alarm?!” He hissed.

“It s-s-still says t-ten minutes.” Bill said, though it could’ve just been loud breathing.

The hallway light shone into the blacked out dorm, making Blake, who was closest, stir a little. Richie felt a wave of laughter suddenly come over him for no reason and had to let out a soft snore. This did not help his or Bill’s cause whatsoever.

Bill started to cough a little which made Richie turned face down in his bed so he couldn’t breathe let alone laugh.

“Did I mi-“ Eddie woke a little, although quickly saw the light and flopped back down to ‘sleep’ then turned around to make his words seem like sleep talking. Richie winced a little, waiting for some sort of punishment from the teacher standing by their dorm, but nothing came thankfully.

Soon enough though, the door closed and the room went back to darkness. They waited a couple minutes to hear the footsteps die away before speaking up.

“That was a fucking close call.” Richie sat up in his bed once again, Bill and Eddie doing the same. “And your timing Eds? Just on point.”

“Well Sorry But you said you’d wake me when she came.” Eddie said, still sleepy but a little more awake than a few minutes ago.

“Sh-sh-She came t-ten minutes e-e-early.” Bill yawned. “I’m t-t-tuh-t-tired I’m g-g-g-going to s-sl-sleep.” Bill’s stutter has a tendency of getting worse when he was tired.

“Night big Bill.” Richie said. “Oh and turn off your alarm or it will wake everybody.”

“Yeah me too.” Eddie laid back down again for like the fifth time that night.

“But you just woke up?” Richie groaned, also laying down.

“If I don’t sleep I get angry.” Eddie hummed.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Richie muttered quietly.

“Huh?” Eddie asked.

“Nothing.” Richie sighed. “Well, goodnight Eds.”

“Night Richie.”

Richie Shut his eyes and found it surprisingly easy to get to sleep that night. He had no clue why but he did realise that;

He hadn’t thought of Luke once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha we tagged this as a slow burn  
> buttttt Bill and Bev are kinda together now and North and East are positive that this prank will end the war. bUt wIlL iT?1!1? sksksks we hope you enjoyed, as always, and we’re open to feedback/questions


	19. Dog Days Are Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the war finally ends and we get a deep insight into our losers

**Bill Denbrough, in the Dining Hall**

North and East went into the dining hall early, tiredly shuffling to their usual table.

Bill, surprisingly, felt wide awake. He supposed it was adrenaline or something similar, but the prospect of seeing West and South finally get what was coming for them made him excited. After this, he could just live normally at Whitemore. No more worrying, or being on look out, or spying.

And he guessed the others wanted that too. Hell, West and South could even want that. Maybe this whole thing was blown way out of proportion.

But soon it would be over. Soon.

“Where are they?” Bev asked, stifling a yawn. Her blazer was tied around her waist, and her bare arms had freckles scattered across them.

“We came her early.” Ben said, head in his arms. “They’ll probably take a few extra minutes.”

“Mmm.” Bev said.

The shutters lifted up at that moment, and a few people went over to get breakfast. The smell of toast and cooked sausage drifted over and Bill began to debate if he should get food now or later when the doors swung open and West and South came in.

The first thing Bill noticed was how tried they looked. Most were yawning and some looked like they would drop asleep right there and then. Second thing Bill picked up was how nervous they seemed. It was like they had brought in a tentative air, and it was floating around them.

The urge to yell something he’d probably regret later bubbled in Bill’s throat, and he was about to open his mouth when Mike all but smacked Bill’s shoulder with his hand.

“Mrs Wilson!” He whispered loudly. Something Bill has learnt about Mike from Whitemore was that, no matter how hard he tried, Mike could never be quiet in the moments he really needed to be quiet.

The talk in the hall dropped slightly as the click of heels grew.

Mrs Wilson, hair tied up in a perfect bun, walked into the hall. Her expression was completely neutral, but her eyes were set on West and South’s table.

“This should be interesting.” Stan said, twisting so he had a perfect view of what was about to go down.

“She’s on them quick.” Mike muttered under his breath, which was unfortunately quite loud. “We only got yelled at second period.”

“Maybe it’s something else.” Eddie suggested, but he sounded doubtful.

Mrs Wilson stopped a few feet away from West and South. She pointed sharply to the door and, without a word, West and South all trouped out. All of them looked anxious, apart from one.

Luke, dawdling behind them all, only looked mildly bored. His eyes drifted over to the Losers table and he smirked, giving a little wave.

“He doesn’t know what he’s getting into.” Stan said flatly.

“Or maybe he does. Maybe he just doesn’t care.” Mike said.

Bill stood up suddenly, eyes set on the door.

“Bill?” Richie asked.

“Bill you better fucking not.” Stan said.

But Bill has already made up his mind. He was aware it was indecisive, but he was also aware he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t very patient, take or leave, but he also didn’t give up. So who could blame him for wanting to listen in?

“Bill, sit your ass back down!” Eddie hissed. But instead of Bill sitting down, Mike stood up.

“Mike, for the love of Christ.” Stan said, but Mike only grimaced apologetically.

“Su-su-su-sorry.” Bill said, a bit more dismissively than he probably should of been.

He walked swiftly to the door, Mike following him. Maybe it was because he was slightly nervous or maybe it was just something unexplainable with Mike trying to be sneaky, but Mike’s footsteps sounded like they were echoing across the whole hall.

They both stopped by the door, pressed flat against it.

Bill willed Mike not to speak.

“I can’t hear shit.”

“Du-du-dude, can y-you wuh-whu-whisper any lu-lu-louder?” Bill asked.

“Calm down.” Mike said, slightly more quietly. So still very loudly.

Bill stained himself to hear something. He could just make out a stern voice that he assumed belonged to Mrs Wilson.

“Oh-oh-open the d-door slightly.” Bill said to Mike. Mike gave him a small salute and nudged it open something.

A loud creek sound emitted from the door and both boys winced.

The talking outside didn’t waver though, and Bill let out a sigh of relief.

He places a single finger on his lips to show Mike to be quite, and Mike nodded. It didn’t even cross Bill how crazy they probably looked.

Definitely looked.

“I am extremely disappointed in your behaviour last night!” Mrs Wilson’s voice travelled. “To parade around the school late hours of the night, accusing other students of parties? That’s not how we work here at Whitemore! At Whitemore we work as a team. We don’t make tales about each other and we certainly don’t disobey the rules set for all first years. I hope I don’t have to speak to any one of you again. Now, your form tutor will inform you of your punishment once I’ve decided on them.”

Bill grinned at Mike, his cheek pressed against the wood of the door. Finally, West and South get punished. They finally won something. And about fucking time too. It’s only been since November.

God, the swim tournament. Bill could picture it as easy as if it was yesterday. The four of them walking down to the pool. Him and Ben panicking when Stan and the rest hadn’t shown up. The relief the had when he finally did. How Stan had practically glided through the pool, his whole body rippling under water.

And that had led onto this, in the most unlikely fashion. But Bill was coming to except that things had a habit of being totally unexpected. The most random things happen at the most random times. And those things were often good more than they were bad.

He didn’t know if it meant anything. What could it mean? That life’s unpredictable. He knew that. He always had. But maybe it proved that you could never fully judge something that you knew nothing about. Like Whitemore. Fuck, Bill despited Whitemore before he’d even stepped foot in the grounds. But if he left know, he’d be completely broken.

He didn’t know if that made him believe that someone was looking over him. If he believed that everything happens for a reason. If he even believes that everything will turn out alright. But it made him believe in something.

“I think she’s coming!” Mike’s half scream pulled Bill back to the present. Which just happened to be very close to an angry Mrs Wilson.

“Ru-ru-run!” Bill hissed.

Him and Mike legged it, their footsteps most definitely echoing now. Bill skidded to the table, yanking his chair out and collapsing onto it.

Mike, however, got his foot hooked around the table leg in his rush. He went falling, face planting the floor in what would of been a very comedic style if the situation wasn’t so dire.

“Mike!” Stan yelled, jumping up.

Him and Eddie made their way over to Mike, who had rolled around so he was facing the ceiling.

“Yuh-yuh-you okay?” Bill asked, ready to move if Mike showed the slightest signs of injury.

“I need to be more fucking careful.” Mike groaned, pressing the palm of his hand to his head.

Eddie was frantically talking to Mike, asking millions of questions about his head and if it felt sore. Stan was leaning next to the boy, arms tentatively around him, edging him into a sitting position.

“What’s going on?” The clipped voice of Mrs Wilson asked. She was holding the door open, shaken looking West and South students walking back in.

“I slipped out my chair.” Mike managed to say.

Mrs Wilson raised her eyebrows, but seemed to decide better on a ‘be careful’ lecture, as she turned on her heels and left the hall.

Bill extended his arm to Mike, heaving him up.

“Thanks man.” Mike said, taking his seat.

Eddie went back to his chair next to Ben and Richie, but Stan seemed less eager.

“Brain injuries can be serious.” He said, looking worriedly at Mike.

“No need to worry then.” Richie said from the other end of the table.

“Very funny, trashmouth.” Mike said flatly, but Bill could see him trying not to smile.

“You sure you’re okay?” Stan asked quietly.

“Sure.” Mike said, reaching over for the ketchup. “But thank you.”

Stan still seemed put off, and Bill got the idea that he wouldn’t move until he was certain Mike was okay. Which was really sweet, actually. Bill thought that Stan was more caring than how he came across.

“So, after you stupidly abandoned me and Stan’s warnings, did you hear anything?” Eddie asked, stirring his porridge violently.

“We did so.” Mike reported. “As expected, West and South took the bait and snitched on us to a teacher.”

“Shocker.” Richie mumbled.

“Mrs Wu-wu-wilson was n-not pu-pu-pleased.” Bill said. “She s-s-sounded really a-angry.”

“I would be too. Imagine waking up from a nice, peaceful sleep to a bunch of teenagers in your bedroom?” Ben said.

“That wouldn’t happen to me.” Richie said casually. “I’d already be in the middle of some hot, hardcore sex with-“

“Beep-beep Richie.” Ben, Eddie, Stan and Bev all called at the same time.

“She told them that everyone at Whitemore was a team,” Mike continued, “and that she was disappointed in them.”

“Ah-ah-and shes thu-thu-thinking of a s-s-suitable punishm-ment.” Bill finished for Mike.

“So you think it’s over?” Ben asked. His fork was held in his hand, completely still. Ben had a very firm grip, Bill realised for no apparent reason.

“Hope it is.” Richie said. “Couldn’t stand more backstabbing. Besides, after Mikey’s birthday, things have being moving slower anyway.”

Mike said something back and then the rest of the Losers began to talk, but Bill was too busy thinking to listen properly.

Hadn’t James said it was over last time? Or said it was a break, at least? But that had been a lie, of course. A distraction, he guessed. So how would West and South know it was over?

There had to be something. Or maybe someone. Just to properly end everything. Not just for their good, but for everyone’s. No fighting, no backstabbing. Just the four towers, living in some fucking peace.

And there was one way.

Bill stood up again, maybe for the second time in just ten minutes.

“Oh for Gods sake-“ Stan moaned, but Bill was already marching to where West and South we’re sitting.

“Hu-hey.” Bill said, momentary cursing his stutter.

“What do you want?” James asked, looking up at Bill dismissively.

“To eh-eh-end it. The w-war. For it t-to be oh-oh-over.”

“Well no shit.” Anne said.

“For ru-ru-real this time.” Bill continued. “N-n-no decoys. We a-a-actually ended it t-this time. It’s over for gu-gu-good.”

James looked like he was about to agree when Luke spoke up.

“How come you get to be the ones to end it?” He asked. “Why couldn’t we?”

“It is fair.” Thomas said, twirling his fork around. “We only said it was on a break to throw them off our game. And then they got us back with that. So technically, we’ve all played somewhat dirty. Besides, I want all this to be through with too. It’s getting tiresome.”

Luke looked like he was about to complain but thought better of it. He shut his mouth and went on eating, and Bill thought his eyes had an evil gleam in them. Maybe.

Or maybe he was just overthinking.

“The w-w-war is officially over.” Bill said. “No b-b-buts.”

“G.G.” Harriet said lightly, reaching over to shake Bill’s hand.

“It means Good Game, you fucking idiot.” James said, sensing Bill’s confusion.

Bill shook Harriet’s hand and nodded. “G.G to y-y-you too then.”

Bill turned and walked away, smiling now.

It was really over.

 

**Mike Hanlon, heading over to Math Class**

“R-R-Richie? W-wh-where the fuck a-are you g-going?” Bill looked down the English corridor of which Richie was starting to walk down.

“We have English don’t we?” Richie turned around, a confused look on his face.

“Math.” Mike smiled, putting an arm around Richie’s shoulders once he had returned slowly to the six.

“Haha! Just testing you guys! You all passed, except Eddie.” Richie grinned, Eddie soon flipping him off.

“Why didn’t I pass?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance as well as confusion.

“Guys.” Stan rolled his eyes from halfway up the stairs. “We’re gonna be late.”

Richie ignored Stan’s comment and carried on speaking to Eddie. “Because you started to follow me, I have eyes on the back of my head Eds.”

“Well they must be partially blind if you think I started to follow after you.” Eddie retorted.

Bev snorted. “Partially.”

“Guys Stan’s right, we should head.” Mike started walking up the stairs to catch up with Stan, smiling at him. “Mr Smith will be shaking his detention slips in the air if he thinks we are skiving again.”

The seven chuckled lightly and finally started trudging up the stairs. They finally reached their math classroom and sat down in their sort-of-rearranged-assigned seating plan.

“Bev move there.” Mr Smith had said one day, for about the fifth time, if Mike recalled correctly.

“You literally just moved me sir.” Bev widened her eyes over at the losers in annoyance.

“No back chat! Now move!”

“Honestly, Mr Indecisive over there just needs to make up his mind.” Ben said in his once again knew seat.

“At least we all sit near each other.” Mike shrugged, pointing out the positives of the situation.

“Just to let you guys know.” Mr Smith suddenly spoke up from the front of the classroom.

“You’ve run outa cigarettes? Honestly it was bound to happen at some poin-“ Richie was cut off by Stan kicking his leg underneath the table. Richie laughed in return.

Do you want one of these young boy?” Mr Smith threatened as we walked over to his desk and grasped for a detention slip.

“A red sheet of paper? Well the colour really does pop and would probably look good with your mums lipstick stain that was on my collar-“

“Richie for crying out loud!” Bev hissed. Mike watched the scene with amusement.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Mr Smith turned round to face the black board and wrote Richie’s name underneath the ‘angry face’ circle.

“I honestly relate.” Eddie deadpanned, making Mike chuckle lightly.

“As I was saying.” Sir turned back around. “You have an assessment homework set for tomorrow.” The whole room groaned, someone even throwing their pencil down on the floor. “Will pick that up.”

“W-w-will?” Bill questioned, trying to hide his laughter as well as the rest of the class.

“I said pick it up!” He repeated himself.

“Yeah, to Will, not Bill.” Bev sniggered.

“Did I ask for your input?” He walked up to Beverly. She shook her head sarcastically. “Now pick it up.”

“B-But I d-d-duh-d-didn’t drop I-it.” Bill folded his arms, not budging from his seat.

Mike awed at how confident Bill actually was. How completely brave and unbothered he was about anything he did and any consequence he would inevitably have to face. Especially that particular day.

I mean, Mike thought to himself, he ended the whole war there and then that very morning.

Above all, Mike felt he could finally relax a little for the first time in a while. Like he could actually speak freely about anything the losers or his whole half were going to do that day. Or say where things are without having the risk of it being stolen like Bev’s notebook was.

Like he could actually finally start to stick his teeth into Whitemore (as weird as that sounds) and enjoy every little aspect of it.

“Mike? Hellooo?” Ben reached over to Mike and waved his hand over his face. “Wow This writer really does make characters zone out a lot and I wouldn’t mind its just she does it badly lol”

“What? What’s up? Did Greta get slime in her hair again?” Mike looked around the room for any slime covered screaming Gretas.

“You would have noticed Mikey.” Richie breathes a laugh out.

“I think we all would’ve noticed to be fair.” Stan said flatly.

About half an hour later Ben spoke up again. “Are you alright? You seemed to be thinking, and that’s not your maths-equation-solving thinking face.” Ben asked.

“I’m great, I was just thinking about how brave Bill was to just end this whole war thing.” Mike shook his head in disbelief. The look on Mrs Wilson’s face while she was talking to south and west would’ve been enough to make Mike have a semipermanent stutter.

“Eh-eh-anyone c-c-could’ve d-done it, I mean, m-m-Mike, y-y-you probably w-would’ve dome it better th-than me.” Bill shrugged, attempting to bend his pencil in half.

“Yeah but no one could’ve done it like you did.” Bev smiled at him, almost...shyly? Mike saw?

“I spy with my little eye, something that begins with S and T.” Richie grinned mischievously.

“Richie.” Mike warned quietly.

“Come on is no one gonna have a guess? Is everyone really giving me the satisfaction of telling you all?” Richie asked, leaning his head on his arms.

No one said anything, all knowing (apart from Bill and Bev) of what Richie was gonna come out with.

“Ok! You have twenty three of these questions to answer before the bell goes.” Mr Smith, luckily, saved the losers of Richie’s comment.

“Sir that’s minutes.” Ben checked at his watch.

“Well I guess you better get on with it then.” He muttered from behind his desk.

Once again the class groaned, all but Mike and the losers. Because he had the sudden realisation that any old math work that was set was a lot more appealing than a three month war. He’d much rather work out the proportions of glass jars filled with jam than the proportions of how they were gonna prank south and west.

And it seemed that the rest of the Losers club felt the same way.

 

 **Beverly Marsh, having dinner in North and East’s common room**  
Bill Denbrough was extremely distracting.

Bev was trying to eat her sandwich, like any normal person, but her eyes kept on fluttering back up.

She traced his jawline in her mind. How sharp it looked, without him even trying. How prominent his cheekbones were. How his eyes always seemed so alive, even when he wasn’t talking.

She looked back down at her half eaten sandwich. East and North were all having Dinner in the common room today, after Alison had asked the lunch monitor. It was nicer than the hall in many ways. Someone had turned the radio on and they were lazing around on cushions and blankets.

It felt warm and homey and reassuring. Bev felt like apart of her had always lived here, with the stone fireplace and slanting windows.

That was something about a home. It was almost part of you. Like you were always meant to be there, somehow. It was nice.

And living it in it with the people you loved made it so much better.

“You think we could do this everyday?” Mike said, reaching over to grab a handful of crisps.

“Alison has ways that one may never understand.” Stan said wistfully.

“True.” Bev said, looking at Stan. Then at Bill. At his face. His jaw. His lips-

“Bev?” Eddie asked.

“Huh?”

“You were dozing off.” He answered, but there was an certain knowing glint in his eyes.

“Oh.” She said, straightening up. “Guess I’m tired.”

She picked up a scotched egg carefully, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. She loved it here, she really did. But there was other things she loved too. Other people she loved too.

Her eyes fluttered up and met Bill’s. He was looking at her almost curiously, his eyes asking thousands of questions.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

He bit his lip almost without realising he did so and gave her a small nod.

“I need to pee.” Bev said, standing up hurriedly. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay.” Mike said slowly.

Bev gave a small nod and then turned curtly and walked out of the common room. She waited outside, straining to hear Bill.

“I-i-i-i’ll get suh-some more su-su-sandwiches.” She heard him say. There’s the loud sound of footsteps over the light radio music and then the door swings open.

“Let’s go.” Bev says, and grabs Bill’s arm.

Go was a big word, but in a big place like Whitemore, in a big escape like Whitemore, Bev feels sure it could mean anything.

They could go to the pool and walk around the back forest. They could climb to the top of one of the towers and watch the sky. They could go wherever, as long as it was Bev and Bill. Bill and Bev. Them. Just them. Together.

“Wuh-wuh-where should w-we go?” Bill asked. He was fiddling with his sleeves absentmindedly.

“Maybe outside?” Bev said. “We could sit on the rocks by the pool.”

Bill nodded, eyes glinting. Bev felt sure she could read his eyes, if she had to. There was something so expressive about his eyes. Like you could see his thoughts through them.

“Come on then.” Bev said, dragging him across the hall. They were almost at the staircase when voices rose and her and Bill froze.

“I can’t seem to find my filing briefcase!”

Both turned to each other in dismay, recognising the voice at one; Mrs Foy.

“Wu-wu-what should w-we du-du-du-do?” Bill hissed at her.

“I-“ Bev began, but another voice spoke up.

“Ugh, that always happens to me!”

“Muh-muh- ms P-p-p-park.” Bill groaned, stutter getting worse.

“Quick.” Bev whispered. She tightened her hold on his hand and ran to the nearest closet.

She flung the door open and pushed Bill in, shutting it behind her.

“F-f-fuck.” Bill said. He reached around and switched on the light, yellow flooding the small room.

“Close call, huh.” Bev said.

“Yuh-yuh-yeah.” Bill said, looking around.

The closest Bev had run into was big enough for two people to lay on the floor without overlapping. The walls were stacked high with cleaning products and un-used writing books. There wasn’t any windows but an air vent was on the ceiling.

Bev pressed her face against the door and heard the teachers pass. Her hand reached out and she tried the door handle; it opened with a click and Bev let out a sigh of relief. They’d had too many experiences with being locked in places.

“Coast is clear, come on.” Bev said.

“Suh-suh-sure?” Bill asked uncertainly.

Bev turned to face him. “Well, we can always wait a little longer to make sure.”

Bev walked over to Bill, so they were facing each other.

“What are we?” She asked. It wasn’t a sad, wanting question. It was a curious, hopeful question. One that could lead onto something, something new.

Bill tilted his head. “Du-du-dating?” He asked. “I-i-if you w-want.”

“Yeah.” Bev said, smiling. “Yeah, I do.”

She leaned forward and their lips touched for the second time. It was soft and gentle and it said thing Bev didn’t think she had the words for. And it was also short. Short because someone opened the door at that exact moment.

The loud clicking sound made them jump apart, but the person at the door had seen everything.

“Holy fucking-“ Eddie said, staring in absolute disgust at them.

“Eu-eu-eddie.” Bill said, but Eddie had turned around and was walking in the other direction.

“Eddie, hold up-“ Bev said, running out the cupboard.

“That.” Eddie said, not looking at her. “That is something I hope is erased from my mind.”

“We weren’t even kissing that much.” Bev said, not quite believing she was having this conversation. “It was a peck, that’s-“

“Bev.” Eddie said, looking at her. “You don’t need to explain anything, okay? I’m not mad that you guys are a thing or whatever. I’m mad that my eyes now need to be washed out with holy water.”

“Oh-“ Bev said. She fell behind Eddie, trying to calm her thoughts down. It wasn’t that big of a deal. It was just them. Bev and Bill. Bill and Bev. They were a thing, yes. But only Eddie knew. Only...

“Eddie!” Bev called, running to catch up with him. “Eddie, please don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t, Bev.” Eddie said. “This is your and Bill’s thing, not mine. Even if it has scarred me for life.”

Bev smiled. At least it was still a secret for the time being.

“How long has this been going on anyway?” Eddie asked her, stopping outside the comment room. He didn’t look angry, Bev noticed. Just a bit curious and grossed out.

“A few days. Ever since we got locked in that Geography room.”

“Ah, if course.” Eddie said, smiling distantly. “How could that not of made something happen? Romantic cliche.”

Bev blushed, nodding slightly.

“Well, if you two are happy together then you’re happy together. It’s nothing more than that.” Eddie said kindly.

“You sound like you know a lot.” Bev said.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Eddie deadpanned, but Bev could of swore blush was creeping up his neck.

“Sure, sure.” Bev said. “Well, I better go find Bill where I left him. See you in a bit.”

She hurried down the corridor and thought over Eddie’s words. They are happy together, aren’t they? That’s all it really is. Bev hasn’t been in love before but she thinks it must feel something like this. Like a desire to be closer to that person, to be with that person, to love that person. Or maybe love is just desire. Maybe desire is the small fire in her heart and maybe desire is what everyone shares. Maybe it’s what they share.

Bill and Bev

Bev and Bill.

Them.

Together.

 

**Richie Tozier, in the Common room**

Sometimes, well, most of the time when Richie actually thought about it, he wished his mind would just grow some old dog paws and stroll off, never to be seen again. He hated it. Despised it even.

He honestly wished it would. He’d even allow his imagine to form that idea and hoped it would theoretically transfer to reality.

But it never did. Well of course it never did, it’s not like he’s some fucking telekinetic boy with psychotic powers. Although that would be pretty cool.

So somehow his dumbass of what ever was left of his brain told him to go apologise for being the dick he was in primary.

Why now? Well he’d like to know just that. To whom? He knew all too well who he’d have to apologise to, and heaven only knows how he was gonna do that.

But did he really need to say sorry to them? Because he never actually did anything to them. Well physically. He wasn’t so sure about mentally.

Which is exactly why you should call them! Richie’s brain nagged on at him. On and on. Never seemed to take a nice vacation somewhere where it wasn’t bothering him.

He allowed his head to lull back onto the 1800’s couch, letting his eyes shut temporarily. To be fair, Richie didn’t even know where the phone actually was, let alone if he was even allowed to use it in the first place.

“For emergency calls to home or the police only.” Richie recalled Mrs Wilson telling them all sternly. “Come to any staff member first if it’s anything else.”

But Richie could call this an emergency call to home. Nothing is worse than being rude to your parents than realising it later. He thought that anyway.

Richie hadn’t even noticed matron come into the common room until she started speaking gravely, jolting Richie back into the present.

“At war with yourself, young man?”

“I uh, no.” Richie replied a little too quickly. Although you could blame this on him jumping out of his skin and now only just regaining himself.

“Where are all your friends?” She carried on smoothly, manoeuvring a lamp shade so she could swipe the duster under it.

“They’re right h- uh,” Richie looked around the room, only seeing a few from east in the back of the room, parading over magazines of boys who were ten times uglier than Richie, in his opinion. “Here a minute ago.” His brain puzzled, was he really in that deep of thought?

“I think you’re lying.” Matron said, accidentally sifting some dust up into her face and coughing slightly.

“No seriously they were here a second ag-“ Richie said, genuinely trying to hide his surprise, being cut off.

“No, I mean about you being at war with yourself.” Matron explained.

“So this is what interrogation feels like, huh?” Richie questioned slyly.

She stopped and turned to face him, hand resting gently on her hip and the other propping her up with the wall. “You think this interrogation?”

“I just don’t get why all the questions.” Richie replied simply.

“I was just wondering why you were sitting all alone when you’re usually out causing trouble with your friends.” She raised her eyebrows and turned back round to continue dusting the cupboard tops.

“Just needed time to think.” An idea popped into Richie’s head. He grinned mischievously. “Say,” he sat up a little. “if there were a ghastly emergency and we just had to call the police, where would the phone be?”

“Where it’s always been.” Matron replied slowly, suspicion seeping into her voice.

“Ah, But you see I’ve only been her a few months, and clearly have never needed to use the phone.” He went on, dragging his voice out a little. “So I don’t know where this sed phone has always been.”

“And why would it interest you to know where?” She clambered onto a chair to reach the duster to the top corner of the ceiling.

“Why, in case of emergency of course.” Richie was close to just not caring, besides, why did he need to apologise for his younger self? If you’re going to have a kid you need to accept that the little devil of which is your child is going to act like that in its younger years. And anyway no one is asking him to call home, so really, why was he even having this long ass debate in his head anyway?

“Well in that case,” she got off the chair and turned to face Richie again. “It’s located on the table just inside the sickbay, on your right.”

“I’ve never felt more safe in my life, Matron.” He wiped his forehead dramatically. “Thank you.”

She shook her head, although not hiding the smile that was subtly pulling at her lips. “Now on with you, I need to vacuum this floor and you are in the way.” Matron shooed Richie out of room with the end of a broom stick.

Well now that she’s told you... Richie’s mind drawled. He rolled his eyes momentarily. It’s not a dire emergency! He told himself sternly.  
But it could turn into one-

“Go away!” Richie shouted into the, luckily empty corridor. His urgent shout echoing around him.

You know, that’s exactly what you said to your parents once, Richie’s brain teased. He kicked the wall and gave in, storming out of the building to walk to the sick bay, hoping nobody saw his increasingly reddening face.

He got inside and bounced up the stairs two at a time, not sure why he was actually running to something he really did not want to do. Richie caught himself just before he barged open the door, quickly remembering there were actual sick people in there.

He quietly twisted the slowly rusting handle, silently praying they would be asleep. He peeked in and saw that no one was actually in there.

“Wow the one time I’m actually quiet and no one is here to see it.” Richie mumbled to himself, walking into the room freely and spotting the phone. He picked it up, quickly coming to a realisation. “How the fuck am I gonna ring them? I don’t even know my home number.” He slammed the phone back on the receiver.

Shows how much of a good son you were. His brain entered his train of thought once again.

“Oh just fuck off for a minute will you?” Richie spoke out loud, thinking of how he was going to contact his parents. He snapped his fingers like it was actually helping his thought process. “Think Richie, for once in your god damned life think!” What would his friends do? What would Eddie do? He stopped snapping his fingers, feeling blisters start to form on his thumb.

He walked over to filing cabinets, flicking through them one by one. Maybe his home number would be on his file? It had to be. Surely.

Richie wasn’t wrong, he found his and wiped it out, ripping open pages and suddenly saw his home number. “Ah Ha!” He snapped his fingers again. “Ow fuck. I need to stop doing that.”

He raced over to the phone once again. “0-6-“ he mumbled to himself as he pressed the keys down, really trying not to mess it up. He finished filing the number and held it to his ear.

First ring had gone by: no answer.

Second ring: no answer. “This was a stupid idea.” Richie tapped his foot impatiently on the ground.

Third ring: no ans- “Hello?” A female voice answered the phone, a questioning tone in her voice.

“Mum?” Richie replied, really hoping he dialled the right number and wasn’t calling a random woman his mum.

“Richie? I-is that you?” His mum replied, still a bit of doubt lasting in her voice.

“Yeah mum, it’s me.” Richie smiled down into the phone. He heard a gasp from the other end of the phone.

“It’s Richie! On the phone! Wentworth come quick! No I’m not lying come and hear for yourself.” He heard his mum frantically call his dad over, chuckling a bit.

“Rich?” A gruffly voice came through the phone.

“Hey dad.” Richie twirled the phone cord around his finger.

“Well I never.”

“Are you alright Richie?” His mother’s voice soon returned to a concerned mum voice. “Has something bad happened? I seem to remember being told that I shouldn’t expect any calls from you unless it’s an emergency.”

“Yeah I’m fine I just...” Richie stopped for a minute, thinking over how he was going to finish. “I just want to apologise.”

“Apologise?” He heard his fathers muffled voice from the background.

“For what dear?” She asked.

“Well, I was a dick when I was younger, and-“

“Language Richie.” His dad cut in.

“Shh let him speak.” His mum hushed him.

“And I feel sorry for you having to put up with me.” Richie sighed, realising how lame and stupid he sounded.

“Richie.” His mother sighed. “We don’t want you to feel bad, you didn’t know and we didn’t let it bother us too bad. That’s what kids your age do, ignore parents, shout at them-”

“Don’t make me feel worse mum.” Richie smiled sadly.

“How long has this been bothering you Richie?” His dad asked.

“Only like a month.” There was silence down the other end of the line for a minute, Richie winced slightly.

“Listen, Richie.” She said softly. “We will always love you, no matter how bad of a temper you get or how much you shout at us. You’re our son, and will always be, whether you like it or not.” She chuckled. “Never forget that.”

Richie smiled, blinking back a tear that was threatening to travel down his cheek. “Thanks mum.” He heard footsteps trudging up the stairs. “Shit.” He whispered silently. “Uh ok I gotta go, bye guys.”

“Love you!” They called back.

“Love you too.” Richie said quietly, not just because the footsteps were growing increasingly closer. He hung up the phone and practically threw the phone back to the receiver. He looked for escape routes, scanning the room. He found none.

“The fuck do I do.” Richie whispered urgently to himself. The only thing he thought of was to dive under a bed, so he did, grazing his arm slightly, but he didn’t let that bother him. He watched the door as he saw someone walk in, and wait for a second. Richie winced once again, waiting for a punishment or something. Then the person walked back down again, seemingly to have forgotten something.

Richie breathed a sigh of relief and slid back out from under the bed. He spotted that he left his file out in plain sight and mentally applauded himself.

“Well done Richie.” He deadpanned before quickly shoving it back in the cabinet and running out of the room. Richie raced back down the stairs, missing the last step and almost stumbling over. Imagine coming back with broken ankles and grazes, Richie smirked, wonder what Eds would make if that.

He slowed down a little once he reached outside, appreciating the January weather. He even allowed himself to smile a little, genuinely though this time.

And Richie had noticed that in the past fifteen minutes, his mind hadn’t bothered him once.

 

 **Ben Hanscom, still in the Common Room**  
Ben was good at things. Ben was also bad at things.

Ben was good at math, and at sketching, and at picturing things perfectly in his head, things he could then go on and build.

Ben was bad at tennis, and at keeping calm, and at knowing the right thing to say.

Ben thinks that knowing the right thing to say is more important than tennis and keeping calm. He thinks it might even be more important than Math and the quick sketches he does. But maybe that’s because people always seem to crave the things they don’t have.

The Losers are some of the only people he knows what to say around. And maybe that’s because there isn’t a correct thing to say. You just say what you think, and there’s no judgment. But Ben still thinks he could be better at it.

He’s thinking this as he sits on the edge of a sofa in the common room. Darkness is creeping over them, and the sun is falling. Light shines in, and the people in the from look like something from a picture book. Golden light is hitting their faces, and each one looks so relaxed and at home.

Ben is happy.

Yet Ben is not happy.

Ben has them but he wants more. He can talk with the Losers but he can’t talk with anyone else.

It’s a lot to think about, a lot that will probably come to nothing, but Ben finds it odd. He guesses some people are easier to talk to. Or maybe Stan was right when he said the thing about them being soulmates. Maybe that’s why.

Or maybe he needed to stop overthinking.

“Ben, man, you good? Mike asked.

“Fine.” Ben replied. Everyone was in the common room, apart from Bev and Bill (something Ben was trying not to think about) and Richie. Lunch would be over soon, so it was probably a good idea to start cleaning up.

Ben went over to the bin and tossed a candy wrapper away, still submerged in his thoughts.

What was talking, really? How did the English language even start? Did people just guess what words meant? And other languages, how do they work?

“Ben?” Eddie asked. He was standing next to him, hand tentatively on his shoulder.

“Oh, yeah?” Ben asked.

“You were blanking out.” Eddie answered.

“Oh.”

“Sure your okay?” Eddie asked.

“I’m fine, honest.” Ben said. And he was fine. Overthinking was just a habit he had. It didn’t mean anything.

“You can talk to us, yanno.” Eddie said quietly.

And that was the problem, Ben wanted to scream. He could talk to them but that was it. He even struggled to talk to the people in North and East, and the worst part was that he felt like he’d get along with them.

He couldn’t even explain why, just to himself. It almost felt like he was watching people through a window, like he wasn’t really there. Wasn’t really with them.

But he couldn’t just say this to The Losers. That didn’t seem like an option. So Ben just pushed it down and forced a grin.

“I’m good, just a bit tired.” He said.

Eddie nodded carefully, and walked back to where Mike and Stan were sitting, squashed at the end of the sofa.

“Where do you think Richie is?” Eddie asked, perching on the arm of the sofa.

“Not sure.” Mike said. “Stan, your legs are literally on my lap.”

“Not my fault our common room is over populated.” Stan muttered, making no attempt to move.

Ben sat crossed legged on the floor, listing to the conversations floating around him.

“Why do you think friends are so important?” Ben asked suddenly, unaware he was going to speak.

“Because people need people.” Mike answered simply.

“Yeah but like, what’s the difference between a friend and just a... a...”

“Acquittance?” Eddie asked. Ben nodded.

“Because you have a connection with friends.” Stan said. “You know them and they know you and you’d both do anything for each other.”

“So it’s about how well you know the other person?” Ben asked.

“Yes and no, I suppose.” Stan said. “It’s not about knowing what colour they like, or what shoe size they are. It’s about knowing when they’re scared or sad or lonely and being there for them if they are. It’s like a bond you have that you have that you can’t break. You’re connected.”

“Connected.” Ben said, nodding.

“Why do you ask?” Stan said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m just wondering why people can talk to others easier than they can to others.”

“Yeah?” Stan said. “Ouch Mike, that’s my foot!”

“Trust.” Eddie said. “You should trust someone if you want to talk to them.”

“Not true.” Mike said. “I talked to Stan on the first day and for all I knew he could of been planning to assassinate me.”

“Part of you must of known then.” Eddie said.

“Bullshit, I was just lucky.” Mike said.

“Very lucky.” Stan agreed. “To think, we might not be uncomfortably tangled up on this sofa if you hadn’t given me that awkward introduction.”

“But how did you do it?” Ben asked. “Like, how did you just go up to Stan and say something?”

“With his voice.” Stan answered.

“Very funny, but no. I guess I just thought; what’s the worst that could happen? Now i’m actually here I might as well enjoy it.”

“But you knew what to say.”

“Ben, you know not all people are good at talking, right?” Eddie said. “Some don’t know what to say but that isn’t a bad thing. It just means that, when you do make friends, you’ll be even closer with them.”

The bell rang out at that moment, and Mike and Stan helped each other up from the sofa while Eddie gracefully slid of the arm.

“You can talk to us about anything.” He said to Ben quietly. “Even if you think it’s stupid. We’re always going to listen.”

“Thanks.” Ben said, grateful for the six of them.

And maybe Eddie was right. Maybe they did have a bond.

A connection.

And Ben wouldn’t trade that for the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone say Thank You Alice for writing Richie so well   
> AO3 never works so sorry if there were any layout errors but but but now things start moving and we get more time to see our Losers!


	20. Don’t Rain On My Parade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a happy chapter yanno

**Beverly March, East’s dormitory**

“Why does nothing interesting ever happen at this place?” Greta asked, primping up her eyelashes in the mirror.  
The room stopped moving, the seven girls turned around to Greta in disbelief. “What?”

“Greta there has been a flipping war on for the past three months! You call that boring?” Audra almost yelled. Beverly liked Audra, she liked her a lot. She seemed smart and funny and actually very beautiful if Bev said so herself. She wouldn’t be surprised if boys from any half of the year from any year were practically drooling over her.

Bev sighed, she clearly didn’t have that gene. But she was happy, elated even. Because she had Bill. That’s all she could ever ask for.

“You even got some weird slime-glue poured all over your head! You find that boring?” Chloe shook her head while tying up her dark chestnut coloured hair into a messy top bun, scraping a few curls behind her ears.

“I find it irritating.” Greta deadpanned, fanning herself with her hands. “Can someone crack open a window in here? My hair is gonna look dirty if not.”

The girls went back to their slightly out-of- schedule morning routines, ignoring Greta’s request. She scoffed loudly and walked to window herself. Bev chuckled, getting off her bed and walking to the bathroom.

“Find something funny, Marsh?” Greta questioned, narrowing her eyes at Beverly. “Or should I call you Beverly Martian.”

“Not at all, Bowie!” Beverly turned around and smiled so sarcastically it looked sickly. “Or should I call you ‘Greta Bow-Down-To-Me.’” Greta rolled her eyes and stormed back over to the dressing table.

“Aren’t you finished, You’ve been using that the whole morning.” Bev heard Alison groan to Greta before she shut the bathroom door.

About twenty minutes later all of east had finally gotten ready for the day, sloping down the stairs as they met up with north tower.

“Hey Bev.” Ben smiled sweetly at her.

“Hey Ben.” She smiled back, then turned to Bill slightly. “Hi Bill.” He winked back at her, feeling her heart flutter as if it literally exploded into three thousand different butterflies.

“I could honestly cut this sexual tension with a fucking knife guys Jesus Christ.” Richie rolled his eyes, being smacked by Stan.

“Let’s get breakfast, shall we?” Mike changed the topic and started walking toward the dining hall.

“God I’m starving.” Eddie followed Mike willingly. The rest followed them except Bill and Bev.

“Y-y-you al-alright?” Bill took Bev’s hand and linked their fingers.

“Indeed I am.” She nodded. Bill pecked her lips and they started walking a little behind the rest of them. Bev was actually thankful he was holding her hand, well, more like holding her up, quite frankly she felt she could literally melt on the spot.

“Come on love birds keep up.” Bev could practically hear Eddie roll his eyes from three spaces a head. She laughed and shook her head, speeding up to the others a bit.

They strolled into the canteen, the smell of freshly toasted bread filling the room. In all honesty, Bev didn’t actually hate the cafeteria food, in fact she actually quite enjoyed it. But she wasn’t about to announce that to the whole school.

Once they had all gotten their breakfast they walked over to their table and slumped down in there seats. Bev was sure Richie was going to fall asleep into his slightly-too-thick-porridge, watching Eddie nudge him gently awake.

“Didn’t get any sleep last night, Rich?” Beverly smirked, scoffing some toast down her neck.

“Nah.” He grinned quietly. “Do you know how exhausting it is to fuck Eddie’s mum all n-“

“Beep fucking beep Richie.” Eddie almost pushed him off his chair.

“Why do we know him again?” Stan asked flatly. Richie’s smile dampened slightly, Bev noticed, but only for about a millisecond, soon returning to his jolly state of mind. She furrowed her eyebrows. She rarely saw Richie any less than ‘a jolly fine chap!’ And Stan was very clearly making one of his dry sarcasm jokes.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Jealous, Stan?” He joked.

“Of what, his spectacular ability to make a stupid, most likely disgusting joke about literally anything?” Stan huffed into his spoon.

“Ch-ch-chill out, m-man.” Bill spoke up, trying to calm down the conversation. “B-besides, it’s s-s-Saturday, y-y-yuh-you aren’t allowed t-to be annoyed.”

“Bill’s right,” Bev started, flipping off an eye roll from Richie. “Let’s just enjoy the days of freedom before we have to go back to finding algebras ‘ex’.”

Richie snorted. “She isn’t coming back.”

“Mrs Wilson is coming!” Mike whispered urgently. Mike, god bless him, couldn’t whisper for the life of him.

Everybody calmed their chatter and stood up as she entered the room. Bev had no clue why they had to stand up whenever the headmistress entered a room. Maybe a sign of respect? Honestly it was just a waste of energy at that time of the morning.

“Good morning students.” She said formally, nodding slightly. The whole room replied with a chant of ‘good morning Mrs Wilsonnnn’. “So, I’ve came to inform you that you are all allowed to go to town today!”

The room erupted into cheering and smiles. “What were you saying about nothing interesting happening here again, Greta?” Bev teased, grinning widely. Greta flipped her off.

Once the cheering had quietened down once again, Mrs Wilson spoke up. “You may all leave once you have finished your breakfast, and make sure to be back by no later than three o’clock in the afternoon. Good day.” And with that, she left the room and the canteen returned to its chattering manner.

“Well come on guys let’s go.” Ben, who had finished eating his food while the headmistress was in the room, started getting up to put his tray into the box labelled ‘for washing! (do NOT wash your hands in here!’

“Woah wait, two more minutes, if I eat this too quickly I think the town might see my breakfast.” Said Eddie.

About ten times the minutes Eddie said he would take later the seven walked, almost skipped, down the hill into town, peeking into shop windows and admiring the odd fountain in the middle of the town square.

And Bev, linked arm in arm with Eddie and Mike, surrounded by all the losers who were chatting and laughing happily, couldn’t remember a happier moment.

 

 **Eddie Kaspbrak, in the town near Whitemore with the Losers Club**  
Eddie definitely wasn’t a violent type, but as Richie started to sing the second verse of some insane song at the top of his lungs, Eddie has the strong urge to throw something at him.

“Richie, can you shut the fuck up?” Eddie asked, looking around the street tentatively. People were wandering around the streets, glancing in shop windows and making their way across roads, and Richie wasn’t really making an effort to be quiet.

“I vote we leave him at school next time.” Stan said.

“I s-s-second that.” Bill said.

Richie stopped singing abruptly. “You never appreciate my musical talent.”

“We notice your lack of one.” Stan said, earning a pout from Richie and a elbow from Mike.

“Think it’ll ever be warm here?” Bev asked, hugging herself.

Something Eddie had quickly come to realise about England was that the weather was never convenient. In fact, it felt as if it judged the days events beforehand, then sent out the weather that would make those things ten times harder.

As a last minute decision, Eddie had tugged Richie’s hoodie over his head in attempt to not freeze to his death. It was a size to two too big, hanging off his frame slightly, but it was also warm, so Eddie kept it on.

His thumbs fitted comfortably under the sleeves, and her gripped onto the soft material as the seven losers wandered down the street.

“Where to now?” Stan asked, looking around.

“There a roller rink around here, I’m sure.” Ben said. “If anything, it would be interesting to see who breaks a bone first.”

“You say that as if it wouldn’t be you.” Stan said, shaking his head.

“I’ll have you know I have the grace and elegance of a swan.” Ben said indigently, fighting back a smile.

“Yeah well, swan, does this place rent skates?” Bev said, poking him in the cheek.

“Uh, I guess so.” Ben said, blushing only slightly. “Most skate places do, at least.”

“Then it’s decided!” Mike said, clapping his hands. “We’ll go skating for a bit.”

The walk to the rink wasn’t that far from where they were standing, and Eddie guessed (or maybe knew) that he could lead them to and back from it without so much as a compass. He had a thing for navigating. In Derry, he’d always been able to find his way in and out of the barrens with no trouble. And despite only visiting the town a few times, Eddie felt familiar with all the routes. Except it felt different this time. Because he wasn’t running away from something but towards something else. He didn’t need to run away from Whitemore like he had done from his old home, because Whitemore wasn’t trapping him in. He had choices, and control, and that feeling was totally new and powerful, almost. No-one rolled a dice for him anymore. He had control over himself.

Ben pointed to a large, dark building at the end of the street. Muffled shrieks could be heard from inside and Eddie’s heart gave a jump of excitement.

“Thu-thu-think they have f-f-food?” Bill asked.

“Probably do.” Mike said.

Bev was jumping slightly, grin growing on her face. “It’s been ages since I’ve gone skating. I found a old of roller skates in a charity shop, Secondhand Rose, Secondhand Clothes. That was ages ago, and I rode them almost everyday until the wheels got clogged up last summer. This will be my first time skating since then.”

Her excitement injected itself into Eddie, and now he couldn’t wait to get inside.

“I’ve never been skating before.” Mike said. “It looks easy enough.”

“One way to find out.” Bev said, and grabbed Eddie’s arm, pulling him into the building.

“Wait, Bev!” Eddie said, trying to slow her down as they entered the foyer. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s easy.” Bev said. “Look, I’ll show you.”

Before he really knew what was happening, Eddie had a pair of skates on his feet, was being ushered into the rink and was trying his best not to fall.

“Angle your legs, that’s all there is to it!” Bev called from in front of him. As soon as the Losers had entered the skating room, Bev had been off. She was swift but she was also graceful. Her turns were smooth and she out-took everyone with this natural ease Eddie wish he had.

“I can’t balance!” Eddie cried, gripping the side of the rink. The floor flashed from the corner of his eyes and once again, Eddie felt the weight of his weak lungs in his chest.

“Follow my lead.” Bev said, sliding in front of him. She extended her arms and gently told ahold of his hands.

Eddie let her drag him away from the only thing keeping him upright. He was going slowly, but Bev guided him well, turning at a good pace and doing it all while skating backwards.

“Little old spaghetti looks a bit lost.” Richie said, swooping over.

“Don’t call me Eddie Spaghetti, Richie.” Eddie said.

Richie just gave him finger guns, turning dangerously.

“It’s way harder than it looks.” Eddie said, still being led by Bev.

“That’s because you’re too nervous, you gotta loosen up!” Bev said.

You could fall.

You could hurt yourself.

You know you’re delicate, oh yes, you’re delicate Eddie, don’t try and tell yourself otherwise...

But was he really? Because hadn’t he been brave? Hadn’t he been strong? And hadn’t he told himself that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t delicate at all?

Those thoughts use to feel hot and dangerous but now they felt different. Like Eddie had cracked open a door on a million possibilities. There was possibility in everything. Where he use to see dangers he now only saw opportunities. Maybe he’d lossened up a while ago. Maybe he just didn’t want to realise it.

“I think I have it.” Eddie said.

“Have it?” Bev asked.

“Balance. I think I’ve found it.”

“Okay.” Bev said, weakening her grip slightly. “Just go slow. Go slow.”

Eddie nodded and straightened his legs out, moving his back up.

‘No dangers, not really, just opportunities’ his mind repeated at him.

Somewhere at the back of his head, his Mother was screaming at him to stop, to stop skating and leave the rink all together. But Eddie pushed the voice back, knowing that leaving the building right now would cause the most damage to him.

“There!” Bev said, letting go of him completely. “You’ve got it!”

Eddie gave her a meek smile, skating shakily but staying upright all the same.

He stole a glance around the building and saw Ben going around fast, faster than maybe he expected. Bill was trying not to fall, and Mike and Stan were racing each other. It was happiness.

“Eddie takes one for the win!” Richie called, skating over.

Bev did an impressive half turn so she was next to Richie. Now the three of them were skating in a line.

“You ever been skating before?” Eddie asked Richie.

“Few times but not many.” Richie said. “But it seems like I’m a natural, right?”

“You fricking wish, Trashmouth.” Bev said, grinning.

Eddie laughed then stumbled, moving his body backwards as to not fall.

“You good there, Eds?” Richie asked, catching him gently.

“Fine.” Eddie said. “Just need more practice, yanno?”

“Oh sure I know.” Richie beamed at him. “Bev was half right, I’m not that good yet. I keep skating into the wall and stuff. But I’ll be epic one day. Won’t we all?”

Eddie laughed and Richie laced his fingers through Eddie’s hand, pulling him forward.

“Let’s balance each other, hey?”

“Sure thing, Kid.” Eddie said, skating forward so he was next to Richie.

Beverly had disappeared, probably racing around the rink like a pro, but Eddie didn’t really mind. He was probably holding her back in a way she was too kind to say.

Him and Richie skated around a few times, hand in hand. The adrenaline was making Eddie’s heart burn in his chest, and he felt like he couldn’t remember a happier moment.

Richie came to a surprisingly good stop, halting near the entrance.

“I’m so hungry I think I’ll drop down if I don’t have something to eat.” He said, smiling at Eddie. Their hands were still embraced.

“There’s a small food court near the end.” Eddie said. “We could go now and the other can join us later?”

“Sounds good to me!” Richie said.

Both Eddie and Richie left the rink, and tumbled over to the food court. It was hard to stop falling, and Eddie half hugged Richie to keep himself from falling. But he wasn’t worrying. He was laughing, actually. Laughing like there was no tomorrow.

“Jee, that was a mission and a half.” Richie said when they finally reached a table. Eddie collapsed onto his head, dragging Richie down too. They both exploded into laugher again and Eddie realised his hand was still tangled up with Richie’s.

Richie stopped laughing and noticed it too, letting of Eddie’s hand like it was burning him.

“Really had ourselves some chucks.” Richie said, sitting next to Eddie.

“Mmm.” Eddie said, thinking again. Richie had been the one to help him out of his comfort zone, to help him face the things he was most scared of. Since the start, Richie had always been there for him. All the losers had, and he was grateful for all of them, but there was something different about Richie. Something that maybe Eddie really did know, deep down.

“Hey, Rich?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Eddie said, blush already burning his cheeks.

“For what?” Richie said.

“For always being there for me. I don’t know, all you guys are, but you especially. It’s not easy for me, with everything that’s happened, but you always seem to remind me that I’m not living in my past anymore. So, thank you.”

Richie smiled and Eddie’s heart fluttered. Something clicked into place then. Maybe it was Richie Tozier who-

“Huh-huh-hey guys!” Bill said, sitting down in the seat opposite Eddie. “You b-b-been here l-long?”

“Oh, no.” Richie said, dragging his attention away from Eddie. “A few minutes.”

“Think they sell fries here?” Mike said, sitting next to Bill.

Bev squashed next to Richie, Ben sitting next to her and Stan got his seat next to Mike.

And in that moment, Eddie thought it was the happiest he’d ever been.

 

**Ben Hanscom, leaving the Skating Rink**

“Holy sh-sh-shit it’s t-tw-twelve alre-ready?” Bill stared at his watch in disbelief as they all walked out of the building named ‘Rate of Skate’ of which, would you believe it, they were just skating in.

“Guess we skated longer than we thought.” Mike shrugged, wiping what seemed like remaining sweat off his forehead.

“Explains why my legs feel like they are gonna rip out of their sockets.” Stan said flatly, making Ben rub his legs absentmindedly.

“Jeez Guys I’ve never heard you complain so much, it’s not that bad.” Eddie said, striding ahead of them all to prove his point.

Bill snorted. “Says th-th-the guy wh-h-who won’t r-r-ruh-r-run more th-th-than three m-m-muh-m-meters in pe.”

“How would you know? Pretty much every lesson you’ve skived!” Eddie retorted as he fell back in the sort of weird line, that Ben couldn’t quite describe, the losers had created while walking.

“B-b-b-because I n-n-know you.” Said Bill, hiding his slowly growing laughter. Ben smiled, crazy how in so little time you can feel like you know the whole world about people. Like you know more about them than you know about yourself, and care about them more about yourself. And that’s ok, Ben thought, because you know they have your back as well, even if you don’t have trust in your own self. Ben guessed that’s what happens when a family forms, you have each other’s backs.

“This sort of pain brings back memories.” Richie said suddenly and Ben was snapped back into the current conversation. All of them stopped walking and stared at him.

“Anything you wanna... talk about, Richie?” Ben asked gently, catching Eddie rolling his eyes. Ben scrunched his eyebrows at Eddie in confusion.

“Yeah, we’re here for you?” Mike said, uncertainty seeping into his voice. Ben looked at Richie, not seeing any pain in his eyes, and he’d been completely fine earlier. He looked more-so confused at them.

“Guys Jesus Christ chill out.” Richie snorted loudly. “I was just talking about the morning after fucking Eddie’s mum for the first time.”

Bev full force pushed Richie and knocked the wind right out of him. Richie regained himself and started laughing once again, getting multiple eye rolls from a certain Eddie Kaspbrak.

“Really felt the need to do that huh?” Stan looked as if he was fighting his brain at if he should kick him in the shin or not.

“Why of course! If my name isn’t Richie Jokester Tozier-“

“It isn’t, but proceed.” Stan cut in.

“Making jokes is one of my many specialties.” Richie emphasised on ‘many’.

“S-s-s-still w-wuh-waiting for y-you to sh-sh-show is the uh-others.” Bill shook his head.

“All I’m gonna say is, I don’t recommend you become a comedian in the near future.” Bev held her hands up. “That’s all.”

“And uh what does little Eddie spaghetti have to say about all this? Haven’t heard a beep beep Richie yet so I assume he’s possibly gone deaf.” Richie leant his arm on Eddie’s shoulder and stopped walking, making Eddie and the rest stop too.

“No I haven’t gone deaf.” Eddie shoved Richie’s arm off him. “And don’t call me Eddie spaghetti!”

“Guys should we-“ Ben started to speak when Richie spoke again.

“Ah you know you love it.” He ruffled Eddie’s hair, seeming to ignore Ben’s second weak call of “Guys?”

“Stop, you’ll ruin,” Eddie repositioned his hair back in place. “My hair!”

“God you sound like Greta.” Bev face palmed her forehead.

“Guys!” Ben raised his voice a little louder. They stopped talking and turned to listen to him. “We are just gonna waste our time of freedom if we don’t go and do something.” They all nodded in agreement.

“Like w-w-what?” Bill kicked a loose stone from the pavement into the road.

“Well it’s not exactly a massive town.” Ben looked around. “I’m sure there is something close by.”

“Now thinking about it,” Eddie scrunched is nose in thought and Ben might have just seen Richie flinch his hands slightly. “I think I saw a cinema on the way down here.”

“A cinema. Really.” Stan sighed, hope draining evidently from his whole body.

“Cinemas can be fun.” Mike shrugged, defending Eddie.

“Yeh, can be.” Bev said. “Meaning: not often.”

“There’s nothing else to do let’s just see what’s on.” Eddie almost pleaded them all.

“Anything for you Eds.” Richie pinched Eddie’s slightly-more-rosy-than-before cheeks.

“Get off me.” He gently swatted Richie’s hands away from his face. Ben looked over at Bev and grinned.

They all followed Eddie to where he claimed to have seen a cinema. For a few minutes, it was all turning left, then right, then back left once again, then retracing their steps, then-

“I’m sure if there were a cinema we would’ve noticed it the first time we came down-.” Stan spoke up after they had turned the same corner for the second time.

“Ah! Here it is.” Eddie cut Stan off, almost too excited to stay block still it seemed. He pointed dead ahead of him and Ben awed at the design of it. The elegant golden swirls at the corners of the double doors, leading into a red carpeted marble staircase which were slightly chiselled in a more refined manner near the walls. He couldn’t help but trace his finger along the indented wall with designs of what he thought was a never ending flower pattern, which had elements of gold leaf highlighting the corners. “Woah.” Ben couldn’t help but reach for his camera in the bottom of his pocket.

“Ben? Come on, you can take pictures after.” Bev smiled from the top of the stairs.

“He can’t take pictures at all, actually.” A staff member called from the stalls at the entrance they’d just walked past.

“Wh-Why not?” Ben questioned, begrudgingly putting his camera back in his pocket.

“Because the flash will affect the gold leaf, and might I add it’s very expensive.” She added in a matter of factly tone.

“Well the last time I checked gold leaf can’t be destroyed by any form of light, the material is built stronger than that. Unless you have the less structured version.” Ben ventured into how long until her patience would snap. “And ‘might I add’, that would be most shameful among many architects.”

She stared at him coldly. “No pictures, or you and your friends are kicked out.”

“Ben come on, we got tickets.” Mike waved for Ben to come up. He took one last look at worker, smiled sarcastically, and joined Mike in the foyer.

“So,” he went to look at the tickets Eddie was holding. “What are we seeing?”

“Star Wars!” Eddie flapped the tickets excitedly.

“Specifically: Return of the Jedi.” Richie added, failing to hide his smile at the almost quivering Eddie. Ben tilted his head ever so slightly.

“We didn’t get much choice over what we wanted to see.” Stan said, sitting on one of the bar chairs.

“Stan even you said you wouldn’t mind seeing it.” Beverly raised her eyebrows and smiled at Stan. And at that very short moment Ben couldn’t decide if she or the decor was more beautiful.

“It’s not that, it’s just I’ve never even seen the first one. You may need to fill me in.” Ben watched Eddie’s expression turned into an exasperated one.

“Oh g-g-god, Don’t g-guh-get Eddie s-st-s-started.” Bill groaned.

“Well basically...” Eddie explained the two movies before ‘The Return of the Jedi’ and Ben was surprised at how little intake of breath Eddie needed to read out what sounded like three whole essays he’d written mentally in his head. “And that’s what you missed.”

“Attention customers, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi is starting in approximately five minutes. Please take your seats now.” The operator who was sat in a little booth close by spoke into a speaker. They walked in and sat down in a long like, taking up almost half of the whole row.

“Eddie, I know your excited,” Mike said, two seats down from Eddie. “But please stop bouncing your leg up and down, we can feel it from here.”

About half way through the movie, Ben heard whispers from the losers and turned to see what was happening.

“You bought pop corn?!” Stan hissed at Richie in annoyance. “And you didn’t think to tell ANY OF US?”

“Shh!” Half of the public in the room shushed him.

“Well I was going to but-“

“Just give it to me.” Stan reached over Mike and Eddie to get to Richie, who was holding and taunting the popcorn box just out of Stan’s reach.

Bev sat up from leaning on Bill’s shoulder and sighed. “Richie give him the goddamned popcorn!”

“Ok ok!” Richie said defensively and handed Stan the popcorn.

Another twenty minutes went by and Ben felt Richie’s get moved closer and closer to into Ben’s side. “What are you doing?” He whispered.

Richie pointed at Eddie, who had his head rested on Richie’s shoulders and half of his body pushed into Richie’s side. “Who knew such a small person could have so much force- ow!”

“I heard that.” Eddie had whacked Richie in his side.

“At least we know you’ve got your hearing back now.” Richie shrugged.

“Rich I never lost it- you know what never mind.” Ben could almost hear the sigh in Eddie’s voice.

Ben settled back down into his seat, smiling absentmindedly as he recalled the happenings of the day. And he wasn’t wrong about friends having your back even if you don’t have your own. And he certainly wasn’t wrong about guessing this was how families of friends were formed.

And this was a family he definitely did not want to split.

 

 **Stan Uris, in the Town’s Market place**  
The market place in the town could easily be described as quaint. There was neat stalls with brightly coloured roofs over them, all cuddled together near the town square. People were shopping with interest, and Stan guessed the stalls had new things each day.

“We’ll have to go back soon.” He said out loud, glancing at the darkening sky.

“We have half an hour or so, I say.” Mike judged. “Let’s make the most of it.”

The seven losers headed over to the first row of stalls. Stan felt cheerful and mellow, something that was a welcoming feeling for a Sunday Evening. Everything just felt so right. The war was finally over, lessons weren’t as tough, and he was at a boarding school with the best people in the entire world. All was good.

“We could get food for a midnight feast!” Bev said, passing a stall that sold different flavours of fudge.

“I’ve had enough sleepovers to last me a while.” Ben said flatly, then laughed.

“Very true, Haystack.” Richie said. “Whenever we had one in the past, it only led to trouble.”

“The wars over, dummies!” Bev said. “We haven’t got to worry anymore, remember? Besides, Mike’s sleepover was really fun.”

“Apart from the whole getting caught thing.” Stan said. Bev nudged him.

“Who’s birthday is next anyway?” Eddie asked.

“Mine’s in March.” Richie said.

“Mine too.” Bev put in.

“Should we go something for Bev and Richie’s?” Mike asked. “Not necessarily a sleepover but something.”

“Sure we could.” Stan said. It struck funny, to be talking about these things. Big celebrations he’d had previously were with family members. The causal talk of sleepovers and parties were something so normal yet so new. Stan felt immensely grateful for them in that moment.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

The walked on over to another stall, with notebooks and ink pens. Stan began to stack the books absentmindedly, listening to what Ben was saying.

“If we pulled the duvet right across the two sofas, and found medium level support, we could have a den easy peasy. It would have to be a firm stretch though, because a duvet is heavier than a blanket so in theory it could drag down. But I think I can sort it out if we come to it.”

“You really think you could pull off a fort like that?” Richie asked with a hint of awe.

“Of course I can.” Ben replied with a slight shrug.

Stan smiled at Ben’s confidence, his fingers brushing over the book covers. Something Stan quickly found out about Ben is that he isn’t as quiet as he comes across. He seems reserved, and maybe he kind of his, but he’s not shy, not around them especially. It’s weird to Stan to think of Ben six months ago. It’s weird to think of any of them six months ago. They were all different, yet the same.

Weird.

“We ruh-ruh-really should b-be guh-guh-getting back s-s-soon. Bill said.

“A few more minutes, then we can.” Bev said. She smiled at Bill, and something glints behind her eyes.

Stan sure isn’t the first loser to notice this, but he thinks he probably understands it better than any of them. Bill and Bev like each other, obviously. They have for a while. Have they admitted their feelings to each other? Stan doesn’t know. He guesses they probably have. He doesn’t mind if they like each other, or date each other or whatever; it’s their business. He just hopes they don’t drift apart like many couples. They need each other, even as friends.

“Do you always do that?” Mike said quietly.

“Huh?” Stan asked, looking away from Ben and Richie.

“Organise stuff.” Mike said, tilting his head towards the stall items Stan had been moving for the last few minutes. “Do you always do that?”

“I organise a lot of my things.” Stan said.

“Yeah but store things?”

“They were messy.” Stan said, like it was an answer that would satisfy Mike.

“Well, do you always do it?” Mike asked.

Stan tilted his head, considering. Yes and no. Yes he would stack things and line things up and try to make everything as neat as possible. But no. No because it wasn’t bad or stupid or something he should stop doing. It was just a... a habit.

“Sometimes.” Stan said, trying to figure out Mike’s game. “Why?”

“Because I care about you.” Mike said simply. A pause, and then; “Do you think you have OCD?”

“What?” Stan asked.

“OCD.” Mike said. “I’ve noticed little routines you have and how you’re always neat. I don’t know, maybe you could have it? It’s common enough-“

“I’m fine.” Stan said, drawing his hands away from the stall.

“I never said you weren’t.” Mike said.

“I don’t have OCD, okay? Just because I’m organised doesn’t mean I’m...I’m sick or something.”

“OCD doesn’t mean your sick, either.” Mike said calmly. “But if you did have it, you could maybe find ways to handle it.”

“I don’t need-“ Stan started again, but Mike shook his head.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Mike said. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of habits and things your have. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of trying to handle them either. If that’s what you want, of course.”

Stan opened his mouth to argue before he realised that Mike was only trying to help. Only being a good friend.

“I’m sorry.” Stan said. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s fine.” Mike said. “I didn’t mean to prey.”

Stan smiled at Mike and shook his head slightly. “I guess I’ve always been a very closed off person. I’m just not use to people giving me advice or stuff. Actually, it’s kind of nice to know someone cares.”

Mike smiled too, almost shyly, and too Stan’s hand.

“I’m always gonna care for you, okay?” Mike said. “Because I love you and friends care for friends.”

Stan squeezed Mike’s hand. “Thanks.” He whispered. And for some reason or another, that moment felt completely private between him and Mike. It was only them two in the market place by Whitemore. Their words were simply whispers to the dying evening, and the feelings they’d confronted each other with were merely another secret the night held.

And Stan found himself grateful for this, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and nothing could go wrong from here.... cOuLd iT  
> okay but seriously thank you so much for reading, the next chapter is pretty important and will be up soon!


	21. Don’t Take Enemies For Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re sorry

**Beverly Marsh, outside Chemistry Class**  
“Chemistry sucks big time.” Richie complained. “I mean, it’s the most boring way to spend an hour, and I don’t even sit near you guys!”

“Is it possible for you to go two minutes without talking?” Stan asked.

“Nope.” Richie said, grinning momentarily. “Besides, you guys love me. Im hilarious to have around and never fail to put two and two together. Which is exactly what Eddie’s Mum-“

A chorus of beeps followed, preventing Richie from finishing his sentence. Bev smiled slightly, leaning back against the wall. East and North were waiting outside the Science labs for their Chemistry lesson. It was the first Thursday in March, and the weather was slowly getting warmer. The war had ended over a month ago now, and without West and South on their tails 24/7, Bev was able to enjoy Whitemore more.

She didn’t know what she’d do when summer came around and she had to go home. Of course she’d come back for her second year, but a whole month and a bit without Whitemore and the Losers seemed almost impossible to Bev. Especially when she would have to live with her parents again.

But no worries, she’d get through it. She always did. Bev Marsh wasn’t about to step down, even if it hurt to stay up. And besides, she could write to the Losers, phone them maybe. And then she’d be back at Whitemore in no time. Easy peasy.

“Hello class.” The voice Mr Magnum said, standing at the front of the line. “Please come in and get yourself seated.”

The line shuffled into the classroom and Bev headed over to her seat in the front row. Stan sat down next to her, resting his head in his palm.

One plus of Chemistry was that Bev got to sit next to Stan. He was funny, in an odd kind of way, and she probably had the most inside jokes with him out of all the Losers

Mr Magnum began to write the title on the board, and the classroom fell into a comfortable silence. Bev started to write, focusing on her pens scratches. Now she had thought about it, it was lodged into her mind. Four months and it was be the summer holiday. Five months. She remembered the 6th of September, boarding the train totally alone. And now...

Now she had the best friends in the whole world. She was apart of a tower who she loved dearly. Her school was good and most of the teachers were kind and even South and West weren’t as bad.

And she would come back to it. Even if her father and mother didn’t want her to, she could. She knew, or hoped, she had the upper hand somewhere. They couldn’t force her to stay, not now she was attending Whitemore properly. She knew it was illegal to not go to school and the government or someone gets involved of you didn’t attend it. So they couldn’t just pull her out.

That thought brought her a glow of comfort, but the aspect of seeing her parents again was weighing on her. It had ben six months since she last saw them. Would anything be different? Would her dad still have bacon every morning like clockwork? Would her mum still tie her apron loosely so it dropped down? Would they still love her? Would they still hate her?

She sighed and her pen stabbed down into her book. She was at Whitemore, there wasn’t any need to think of her home. Not yet, anyway. If things got really bad, she could ways run away until September. Eddie lived in Derry. She could stay with him maybe.

Eddie lived in Derry.

That thought took over Bev’s entire brain. She wouldn’t be alone there. They could meet up over summer, they could be each other’s escapes. It wasn’t going to be so bad.

“Beverly?”

“Huh?” Bev said, snapping out of her thoughts.

“I just asked if you and Mr Uris could please go and collect our textbooks.” Mr Magnum said. He had finished writing on the board and Bev was distantly aware that everyone was looking at her.

“Yeah.” She said, getting up. Stan did the same, and they left the classroom together quietly.

“Heck, it’s cold in there.” Stan said when the door slammed shut, pulling his blazer closer over his arms.

“Mm.” Bev said. “Where do we need to go?”

“Top level science office.” Stan replied. “Were you listening at all?”

Bev shrugged, allowing herself to smile. “Guess not.” She said.

Stan looked, for a moment, like he was going to press on. But then he smiled too, and let her keep her thoughts to herself.

They rounded the corner to the top years Science classrooms when Stan threw his arm out and stopped her.

Mr Smith was leaning out a window, cigarette in his hand. A trail of smoke was floating up the side of the building and Bev and Stan took a step back.

“He’s really smoking? In here?” Stan hissed, peaking around the side of the wall.

“Oh my God.” Bev said, giggling slightly. The idea of a teacher smoking in the Science department seemed totally crazy and she found herself laughing at the thought.

“You think he’d have some sense.” Stan continued. “But honestly.”

“Think he does this much.” Bev said, raising a hand to cover her mouth.

“I saw his cigarette pack in our first lesson.” Stan said. “But I cant believe-!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Bev said, grabbing his arm and poking her head around the wall.

Mr Smith took a long drag (Bev bit her cheeks to stop her laughter), flicked the cigarette out the window and walked in the other direction.

Stan was still shaking his head, looking broken in side, so Bev took led and pulled him down the corridor.

The came to the stock-up room, and Bev let the door swing open. It was dark, and there was a strong smell of must from inside. Bev tugged down on the light and heard a little click as the room came into sight.

“What volume?” Bev asked, walking into the room.

“Term three for us so book three.” Stan said confidently, striding in and walking over to the back shelf.

“Term three already.” Bev said, sitting down on a shelf as Stan sorted through the boxes filled with textbooks. “It feels like we’ve been here forever but also like we only got here a few weeks ago. Does that make sense?”

“Kinda.” Stan replied, glancing over at Bev. “You realise that shelf will probably break off?”

“Oh boohoo.” Bev said, kicking her legs. Then she tilted her head towards Stan. “Do you think it will be different in second year?”

“Just slightly, maybe.” Stan said, sorting through Biology books. “The work will be different but that’s obvious. I think the main thing will no longer being the youngest year. We’ll have already been at Whitemore for a year by then.”

Bev nodded silently. Being a year higher wouldn’t make them the youngest, as Stan said, which meant they had more power. And it meant the Top years couldn’t boss them around as much.

Thinking about life at Whitemore, all the way up till top form, was so incredibly strange yet exciting. Bev never thought she’d get away from Derry. But now she had, and she had her whole life ahead of her. She wasn’t trapped anymore.

“Found ‘em.” Stan said, heaving a box of textbooks off the shelf. “Do you want to kindly help?”

Bev smiled and made her way over the shelf, picking up a box only slightly easier than Stan had.

“Chemistry vol.3.” Bev read. “Oh boy, my favourite volume.”

Stan gave her a smile and wedged the door open with his foot. The made their way out, each carrying a box.

They hadn’t been longer than ten minutes, and Bev allowed herself to observe the top year science department with interest. She’s be here, in a few years. Studying for exams that would shape her world after Whitemore.

After Whitemore.

Holy crap, now it it hit her. Her whole life had been destroyed and controlled by the two people she was meant to trust most in life. She never had anything to aim towards, just to run away from. And now Whitemore has given her a chance at everything. It wasn’t just an escape, it was a home. A home which she could live properly for the first time in forever.

Whitemore has given her that.

“Bev?” Stan asked. Bev had stopped walking mid way to their classroom. She was distantly aware that her hands were shaking and she moved to sit down on a window ledge.

“Bev...” Stan asked again. He put his box down on the floor then went over to her, leaning down by the window.

“What’s up?” He said, voice gentle and concerned.

“The ceiling.” Bev managed to say.

Stan looked momentarily shocked, then let out a shaky laugh. “Beverly Marsh still in there?”

“Still here.” Bev said weakly. She always tried to not think of her parents if she could try, and the thought of her future without them was just a bit too overwhelming. She wasn’t crying, but she definitely felt the prick behind her eyes.

“Is it about your home?” Stan said quietly.

No, Bev thought. That wasn’t her home anymore. Was it ever her home, really?

“Just some very strong memories.” Bev said, looking up at Stan.

“We can sort something out.” Stan said. “I’m sure my parents would let you stay over at my house for a week or two over summer-“

“How do you know it’s about my parents?” Bev asked.

“Put two and two together.” Stan said gently. “But I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to help you. All the losers are.”

“Aw, stop with the mushy stuff, you’re gonna make me actually cry.” Bev said, smiling genuinely.

Stan helped her up from the window sill and they continued back to their classroom, box in hand again.

“Bev?” Stan said before they were about to re enter the classroom.

“Yeah?”

“Whitemores here for you too.” Stan said, then laughed slightly.

But Bev thought it was completely true. Because Whitemore had given her her life back.

 

**Mike Hanlon, French class**

“Mike, you answered these in English?” Madame tapped on his book in annoyance. “We are in a French lesson!”

“You didn’t specify what language we had to answer these questions in.” Mike replied, waiting for fury to descend upon him.

“Michael!” She pronounced not quite correctly in her strong French accent. “Do not answer me back like that!”

“You asked a question, he answered it, kinda how a conversation works.” Eddie said from next to him, smiling subtly at the scene.

“I did not ask for a conversation.” She eyed Eddie coldly. “Nor input from you either.” Eddie stared back down at his work blindly, trying not to explode with giggles. And by the short breaths and shuffling from Bill Denbrough behind him, it seemed he too were having troubles on staying quiet. “Now, back to work, Mike if you don’t finish these questions in this lesson IN FRENCH, you will see me at break time.”

Mike nodded and looked back down at his work, poising his fountain back in his hand and crossed out his English answers aggressively.

“Could’ve just specified on the black board.” Mike muttered to Eddie, who had pushed his table close to Mike’s last lesson for refuge after the wrath of Madame. For dropping his pen.

“We are in a French lesson.” Eddie reasoned, chuckling quietly.

“Taking her side now are we?” Mike raised his eyebrows in surprise, debating whether to just rip out the whole page rather than using up all his ink.

“I’d rather throw that pencil I dropped last lesson at her than do that.” Eddie shook his head, still clearly not over that.

“I’d love to see that.” Mike whispered, sort of.

“Hanlon! Back to your recopying!” Madame yelled from her desk. He rolled his eyes.

“Rather her wrath any day over my mother’s.” Eddie muttered, soon sighing as if he meant to keep that statement lodged in his head.

“Hard time at home huh.” Mike looked over at him sadly, not trying to trod on a too sensitive subject.

“I guess.” Eddie sighed, doodling in the back of his book. “I mean, I know she loves me and she means well, she just has uh... a uh difficult way of showing it.” He swallowed. “If that makes sense.”

“Well, I’m sure she does, parents have weird ways of showing love sometimes.” Mike reassured, not really sure if Eddie needed the reassurance, but he seemed to take it anyway.

“Yeah.” He nodded, convincing himself more than anyone else by the looks of things. “I mean, they’re just protecting you, f-from the... bad, Right?”

“That’s what they signed up to I guess.” Mike smiled, down to the forth question of crossing out. He’d written eight.

Eddie was silent for awhile, scribbling out some French answers. Then suddenly spoke up. “Do you think...” he started. “Do you think that parents make out the world worse than it actually is? Is that their job as well?” Eddie had never looked so vulnerable.

“Well I-“ Mike started but Eddie continued.

“Or are they telling the truth, and that the world is no place for someone like me and that I won’t achieve anything in life if I’m... me?” His eyes grew glassy as he looked up at Mike.

“Eddie...” Mike grabbed Eddie’s hand and held it, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Why would you ever think that?”

“I... I don’t know, I guess my mum just did a good job of teaching me about this earth.” Eddie shrugged, closing up like a book.

“I don’t think you can call it a good job.” Mike didn’t know if he thought this thought or spoke it, but either way, it made him think a little.

Eddie sighed for about the fifth time in those two minutes, squeezed Mike’s hand in return and let go of it.

“Listen Eddie, I don’t know what your mother told you, or what you believe about yourself, but whatever it is, it’s wrong.” Mike told Eddie kindly but firmly. “You are the bravest and wittiest and have one of the best personalities I’ve ever known. Of course you’ll make it in the big wide world, people like you will soar. So whatever your thinking about yourself, push away because it isn’t the truth. We,” Mike pointed around the room to the losers. “Your friends, know you and will support you through thin or thick ok? Never forget that.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes as if there were an eyelash prickling it. “Thank you.” He spoke quietly. “Although one thing I would like to know is why Madame did not pick on you once throughout that whole speech.”

“Honestly, me too.” Mike huffed a laugh and picked up his pen once again to cross out yet more sentences. He pressed down and immediately the pen leaked everywhere onto his page, staining that one and the next three underneath it. “Ah shit.” He looked over at his French teacher who was at her desk marking test papers and just thought, ‘you know what? Fuck it.’ And with that he grabbed the three pages and with a force he tore them all out, making a few peers next to him jump.

“What now?!” She stood up suddenly good and burned a whole through Mike’s table.

“Well you see-“

“Save it! You will see me tomorrow break time, you too Audra!” She shouted suddenly.

“Me? What in the world did I do!” Audra yelled back in frustration, face going almost as red as her hair. Though she did have a fair point, she literally did nothing.

“Know what’s wrong with her?” Eddie smirked. “She’s on her period.”

“Mighty long period she has.” Mike said and they both burst with attempted-quiet-laughter. Eddie went so red Mike debated going to Matron for some of her ghastly medicine.

Even if they were to be scolded in probably a matter of seconds, Mike didn’t care, he was just happy and it seemed so was Eddie. And in that lesson, that was all that mattered. And Mike really hoped it would stay that way for a while.

 

**Bill Denbrough, heading to the common room**

“Stan why the fuck would you decide to trip up the stairs?” Richie helped Stan up laughing lightly.

“Why, I don’t know Richie, must of had the sudden urge to lock my foot behind my knee and just fall flat on my face!” Stan laughed sarcastically, brushing his dusted hands onto his trousers. “Darn, hate it when that happens!” Bill saw him wince slightly as it continued to leave little grey marks along the seam.

“Now that,” Ben raised his eyebrows in both mild shock and amusement. “was some dry sarcasm.”

“I-I-it’s wh-What he w-w-was put o-on this e-er-earth to d-duh-do.” Bill shrugged, subtly taking Bev’s hand and lacing their fingers together as they walked to the common room. She turned to look and he smiled, winking slightly.

“Jesus Christ guys get a room, how many times do we need to tell you?” Mike teased from behind.

“I think the real question here is why Mike wrote the answer to English questions in English, in a French lesson.” Eddie chuckled, getting a playful nudge from Mike.

“You know for a smart guy, that wasn’t the smartest thing you could’ve done.” Said Bev. She pushed open the common room door and shut it immediately. Turning around slowly with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Bev? What’s up?” Eddie asked, walking to the door to open it.

“Stop. You really don’t wanna see what’s happening.” Bev held an arm over the door. Eddie pushed past it and let out the highest pitched screech, Bill wasn’t sure Greta could top, that sent Ben almost tumbling to the floor in shock.

“What the fuck Eddie?” Ben took Stan’s shoulder as the next best resort to getting his balance back.

“Yeah let’s not go in there.” Eddie’s breath had sped up rapidly, Bill had noticed.

“W-W-will w-wuh-one of y-you tell us wh-whats g-guh-going on?” Bill asked impatiently, debating to face whatever was in there himself.

“Blake and Greta are uh.” Bev had gone pale.

“Oh god please don’t say Blake and Greta having s-“ Richie faced palm his forehead, not needing to be cut off by anyone, he cut himself off.

“What? No, no ew.” Eddie physically shivered in disgust. “They’re just kissing.”

“Seriously.” Stan rolled his eyes. “Was the scream really necessary?”

“They’re just kissing?” Richie almost laughed. “You’ve seen Bev and Billy boy right?” Both Bev and Bill flipped him off. Richie held his hands up in defence.

“I just wasn’t expecting it that’s all.” Eddie said quietly in defence. “Let’s be honest, we all saw that coming.” Eddie held his hand out at Bill and Bev.

“Guess we can’t go in there now then.” Mike said after a few short seconds. “I’m only now realising how we literally only go to the common room in any spare time we have.” He chuckled.

“Not true,” Bev pointed out. “We go to the canteen often.”

“T-t-to eat, B-B-Bev.” Bill loved Bev, woah, Bill caught himself halfway through his thought. Literally with no clue why. Of course he loved Bev, he thought of her day and night, he even wrote their initials into some warn out wood. Of course he loved Bev. Why he was repeating this thought like some sort of mantra, he didn’t know that either. There was a lot of things in life he had zero clue about, and for some reason, he was ok with that, because what’s the point of living if you know the out come to your life? Bill was pretty sure he was having some sort of déjà vu within his head. Could that happen with thoughts? Again, something else he didn’t know. But one thing he did know, was that he and the losers, he and Bev, would all make it, through thick and thin, together.

Together. He liked the word. To be with someone or a group of people. Bill always had a way with words, his mother once told his father once while Bill was out in his back garden, narrating (well, stuttering) his game of pirate ships with his little brother. ‘In fact he could probably write a novel and someone probably would mistake him for Stephen King.’ The words meant nothing to him back then, all he knew was that he couldn’t speak for shit. And clearly he didn’t know much more now. But the words his mother had once said suddenly kept replaying over and over in his mind.  
‘Bill has always had a way with words’  
‘Bill has always had a way with words’  
‘Bill has-‘

Maybe old stuttering Bill did. Maybe there was a way out from his stutter. Maybe his friends would help him lose his stutter. And that funny word that keeps popping up again? They’d all help him, together. Even if his parents wouldn’t-

“Bill?” Mike snapped his fingers in front of his face, seemingly not for the first time and Bill jolted. “Zoning out, buddy.”

“Oh, s-s-s-suh-s-s-suh- fuck!” On the other hand, maybe he wouldn’t lose his stutter, maybe it would haunt him forever and he’d always be known as the stuttering freak who can’t even order a simple coffee at a cafe.

“Is sorry the word you’re looking for?” Stan said gently.

“Y-Yeah.” Bill attempted a smile but it probably looked like a forced, demonic grimace. “So uh wh-where a-are we gonna g-guh-go?”

“Well if you’d listened you’d kn-“ Richie started flatly before getting multiple death stares from all of them. “Uh..”

“We decided,” Bev said quickly. “We’d see if any music rooms are free.”

“S-sounds great.” Bill nodded in approval and squeezed Bev’s hand. They all walked back down the stairs, Stan being careful as to not scuff his foot on the stair to then lose his balance once again. When they reached the bottom of the annoying long staircase Richie started clapping.

“He did it! Everyone gather round.” He rose his voice higher, ignoring the hissed from Eddie and Bev to shut the fuck up. “Stan the man, get this, didn’t trip up!”

“You know what would look good with your face Richie?” Stan smiled, they all knew what was coming, all but Richie, and none of them did anything to stop him.

“Why no Stanley, but I’d sure like to found out!” Richie replied with enthusiastic sarcasm.

“The floor.” Stan launched forward, both he and Richie laughing as he chased him out of the door and into the playground. In fact they were all laughing, almost in hysterics.

“Did we just witness the battle of wits?” Mike finally spoke, wiping his eyes from tears.

“I think so.” Bev had let go of Bill’s hand to go see whether Stan had caught Richie yet. “Guys!” She called. “Come on we need to get a music room!”

They soon returned, both red-cheeked and panting madly, still laughing though.

“That’s probably the most running,” Richie took one massive sigh to regain his breath. “I’ve done in a while.”

“If only Coach had seen that.” Eddie nudged Richie in glee.

They finally made there way to the music department and got a room, all slumping into the chairs in fits of giggles. Richie leant his arm on the piano with little realisation before it made an odd noise of three different keys and that set them off again.

If Bill could take this feeling of happiness and put it in a pot for later, we definitely would’ve. And would you guess why? Because they were together and happy.

And Bill personally believed nothing, would break them.

 

**Ben Hanscom, walking to Drama class**

“How the fuck is Stan gonna survive doing something in drama if he can’t even walk up stairs?” Richie asked seriously as they all made their way to drama class.

“Richie I tripped over once.” Ben saw Stan clench his jaw, and he hoped Richie saw it too. Take the warning signs instead of the danger signs, Ben’s mother had always reminded.

Richie’s seemed to have taken the hint and manoeuvred to a different subject. “So Eds.” He started.

“Don’t call me that. How many times do I have to tell you?” Eddie groaned, almost stumbling over a stone when Bev pulled him out of the way just in time.

“As many as you want.” Richie smirked.

“Hey, Guys?” Ben said, watching as their drama teacher came walking the opposite way to their classroom. “What is Miss Rose doing?”

“She knows we have drama right?” Bev questioned as she walked closer and closer to them. “Hey miss!” She called.

“Jesus everyone let’s go before Miss explodes.” Richie said, wary of Miss Rose’s temper, since it had gotten him in a whole lot of trouble with Mrs Henderson before.

“W-we aren’t l-luh-l-leaving.” Bill stood by Beverly, folding his arms.

“Well of course you’re not, Bilverly.” Richie teased.

“Shh she’s coming!” Eddie hissed as Beverly finally got her attention and started walking over.

“Are you alright, students?” She spoke formally to them. Ben didn’t mind Miss Rose, she was mainly nice most of the time. She just didn’t tolerate people who messed around in her lessons. Or if Ben were to put it in other words, she didn’t tolerate Richie. Which Ben understood, if he ever became a teacher, he didn’t think he’d be able to tolerate a Richie either. But from a student point of view, Ben felt lucky Richie was even his friend, because Ben wouldn’t usually hang out with any of the sort. But he’s changed. And he liked the change. And he didn’t just think he changed by himself, Ben thought Whitemore was doing most of the work.

And he was ok with that.

Ben was drawn back to reality by cheers of glee from the losers.

“Woah what’s happening?” Ben followed after them all as they seemed to be now going the same direction as Miss Rose. “Drama is that way?”

“Did you not listen to a word that was said?” Stan turned around and slowed down to walk with Ben.

“Well, I may have just went out of it for a little.” Ben explained.

“Jeez what is with us and zoning out these days?” Stan laughed dryly. “Anyway Miss said we are going to the stage rather our musty old drama room.”

“That explains the cheers.” Ben huffed a laugh out.

“Come on,” Stan grabbed Ben’s arm. “Let’s catch up before Richie claims I’ve tripped over because we took so long.”

They pushed open the door to the building and ran up the stairs two at a time. “I better have abs after this.” Ben laughed, mainly because he was running out of breath rapidly.

They caught up with the losers and they pushed open the hall of which the stage was placed at the back of. Miss Rose told east and north to to grab a seat from pile of them stacked and sit down in front of her.

“Today, since this isn’t our normal classroom, I will let you do improv scenes from which ever show you please, and you may look through the prop box which is located behind the left curtain of the stage.” She said, having to hush down the clapping and chatting that erupted as soon as she finished her sentence. “But there are rules. You may not go into the store cupboard, not underneath the stage, and you may not use anything that could dirty this room or yourselves. Now, you may start.”

The losers sprinted off their chairs and into the prop box. “Wow she appears to not be on her period today.” Richie smiled at Eddie’s direction in disbelief, and Ben was almost sure Eddie’s cheeks heated up, but in all fairness, Bev did just pull out a massive red scarf about of the old rusted chest.

They fumbled through it, and Ben was now sure that he was going to get some sort of muscle from all the laughter. Richie turned around wearing a top hat with a moustache hanging by a thread off his nose and had a cane rested gently on his hands. “It’s called class my dears.” He whipped out his ‘legendary’ British accent.

Eddie suddenly gasped and they all turned to look at him. “We should have... A FASHION SHOW!” He squealed and Bev joined in, turning back to the chest and throwing pieces of garment at everybody.

First was Mike, who had a pink tutu rested at his hips and a blonde Afro wig placed oddly on his head. He walked along the stage and did a little twirl in the middle of it and that’s when Ben and the others truly lost it.

Next was Bill’s turn. He wore a way too over sized soccer sweater and had a classic newsboy hat on his head and strutted down the stage like some Danny Zuko and, of course, winked at Bev as he came off.

After Bill was Eddie, wearing a silver sequinned waist coat that shone to the gods and some bright pink leg warmers that Ben wouldn’t be surprised if Eddie wore on a day to day basis. He certainly pulled them off. Well, Richie certainly thought so.

Then was Bev, draped in the red shawl she’d dragged out earlier and a golden leaf crown placed elegantly on her head. She waltz down the elegance and grace of a queen and just when Bev thought she couldn’t get anymore... perfect, she smiled and bowed and Ben thought he was gonna combust if he was honest.

Next was Stan, who strolled down the stage in a sky blue tuxedo with a navy striped tie he pulled his curls back with like a head band. He took the fake tulip out of his pocket and threw it off the stage, bowing dramatically.

After was Ben’s turn. He had rummaged the chest to find some super big black high heels and some big puffy ear muffs. He walked onto the stage and had to fight the urge to trip over with every step he took. He wobbled about and almost losing his balance he swung his arms around, knocking his ear muffs off. He looked over to the others who were quite literally on the floor with laughter.

“Screw it.” Ben kicked off his shoes and ran as fast as he could behind the curtain when he saw one hit Patty’s back.

“Hey!” She shouted, but Ben could hear the laughter in her voice.

Finally was Richie’s turn, he’d found a t-shirt that said ‘#1 MOM!’ on it and wore some pink rimmed sunglasses and flip flops and slid onto stage. It was safe to say at that moment none of them could breathe. He swirled and twirled all along the stage, blowing kisses to the nonexistent audience they had, and one to the losers, specifically in Eddie’s direction.

They all collapsed onto the stage and just laid there for a while, trying to regain their strength and breath. And Ben was right. Whitemore has changed him. All of them.

For the better.

 

 **Richie Tozier, alone in the Common Room**  
Richie tapped his foot in time with the music that was blasting out of his stereo. He was meant to be finishing his science homework, but like many things he was meant to do, he was distracted instead. Everything apart from the sheet in front of him seemed interesting. And he’d never noticed the exact shade of the wall before. Or how the sofas were arranged. Or the books on the shelf.

He sighed and flopped back. He was the only person currently in the common room, East and North both down at Dinner. They had agreed he might be able to concentrate better if he was alone, and Richie had. For about three minutes, anyway.

But he appreciated it all the same. Having people look out for you was nice, even if it was only a tiresome piece of Science homework.

He read the question again, trying to take in the words on the paper. But, once again, the words got muddled in his brain and he couldn’t make sense of them.

“Fuck this.” Richie muttered in frustration, pushing the sheet away from in. Concentrating was something he never found easy. That’s not to say he wasn’t smart; he was. But it actually doing the work that Richie found hard. Staying focused for more than five minutes seemed almost impossible. And his behaviour tended to drag his grades down.

But he was getting better, he thought. Definitely better than he did in his old school. He tried now, and showed way more respect to the teachers than he use to. And after the phone call to his parents, Richie felt sure he could do better. He would do better, for his parents if anything. They deserved that much.

Richie sighed again and flipped the paper over, horror seeping in when he saw the page was double sided.

“What the fuck is this-?” Richie said. He stood up quickly and left the common room, deciding to get Stan to help him with it later. He would do it, he promised himself that, but he might as well understand it first.

The dining hall was already full when he arrived, and he told Mrs Henderson why he was late before going to the Losers usual table.

“Good day my fine old folks.” He said, sliding into his chair.

“Huh-huh-hey Richie.” Bill said. “Wuh-wuh-want to guh-get food?”

“I’ll be fine.” Richie said, who, all in all, wasn’t that hungry.

“You finished your Science quick.” Stan said.

“About that-“ Richie started, but the six losers all gave him such a “Richie-oh-dear-god-not-again” look that he laughed first.

“We all left the common room to help!” Bev said.

“And I will finish it!” Richie said. “I just want to go through it with Stan the Man first, that’s all.”

Stan sighed. “I’ll help after Dinner.”

Richie grinned and pinched one of Eddie’s chips, earning himself a slap.

The Losers chatted for a while, Richie taking whatever food he could from them. They didn’t really discuss anything important, and if asked Richie probably wouldn’t even remember what people said, but it was nice just to be with them and not have to worry. He felt sure, in moments like these, that nothing would even come between the seven of them. They were just too close.

“Think we could take some food back to the common room?” Ben asked, pushing his chair back slightly. All the Losers (apart from Richie) had finished their meals and were ready to leave the hall.

“We’re allowed to leave now, aren’t we?” Eddie asked. “Only we finished early.”

“Sure we are.” Mike said. “People do it loads.”

“Richie, you can grab something to eat if you’re still hungry and take it with you.” Ben said. “I thought we could maybe go on the roof again? We have time.”

“Yeah!” Bev said, practically leaping out of her seat. “It’s been ages since we’ve been up there.”

The roof on top of North Tower was a secret sort of place the Losers liked to go occasionally. Bill and Stan had discovered the trap door leading up there, and they had gone a few times when the nights weren’t cloudy. As both Mike and Eddie had pointed out, that was the best time to star-watch.

“I’ll guh-guh-get the buh-buh-blankets.” Bill said, looking pointedly towards Bev.

“Yes, I’ll come too.” Bev said.

“Have you got your stereo?” Eddie asked Richie, grabbing his arm gently.

Richie produced the stereo from his pocket and Eddie gave him such a pure smile Richie felt sure his heart melted.

“We can play music too!” Eddie said, looking so carefree and excited Richie laughed a little.

“Sure we can.” He said. “Come on-“

But Richie was cut off as Luke came to the table. His face looked somewhat happy, which Richie took as a danger sign.

“Cuh-cuh-can we huh-huh-help you?”Bill said, raising his eyes brows at Luke.

“Actually, I want a word with Richie.” Luke said, giving a pointed look towards Richie.

“Really?” Richie asked, just feeling tried with all of Luke’s bullshit. He came to Whitemore for a new start, and he was getting a new start, and he wasn’t going to let Luke get to him anymore.

“Yeah.” Luke said, and something flashed in his eyes. “It’s about our deal.”

Richie tilted his head. “What?”

“Our deal.” Luke repeated. “About you moving to West Tower.”

Richie almost laughed. “I don’t know what drugs you’re on Luke, but if you think for one second-“

“But that’s what you said.” Luke said. “Besides, I think it’s rather mean of you to be treating these people like this.”

“By ‘people’ you mean us?” Bev asked, looking coldly at Luke.

“Indeed.” Luke said. Something about the way he was acting made Richie’s heart speed up, and he remembered Luke’s mind games all too well.

“We don’t want to talk to you.” Eddie said, hand still on Richie’s arm. “So please leave.”

Luke laughed and Richie became aware that the Dinning Hall was silent.

“Either you tell us why you’re here or you leave.” Ben said.

Luke gave an over exaggerated sigh. “Richie, I’ve covered for you for too long but pretending to be friends with these people is just cruel. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t-“ Richie started but Luke cut him off again.

“This whole time Richie said he was your friend, he was actually working with me.” Luke said to the Losers.

“Bullshit.” Mike said. “Richie would never.”

“Really?” Luke asked. “We went to the same school. Red Balloon academy? Yeah, we were both there. And he was my friend too.”

No one said anything. Richie felt his blood run cold. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t...

“So what?” Stan said finally. “He went to the same school as you, that doesn’t mean shit.”

“It doesn’t?” Luke said. “What, him being friends with me means nothing too?”

“Richie wouldn’t of been friends with you.” Bev said.

“Richie?” Luke asked. “You gonna tell them, or should I?”

Richie tried to speak but his mouth was dry. “I...uh...” He swallowed. “It was a long time ago.” He practically whispered.

Silence. No one said anything. And he deserved it too, didn’t he. He was the one who fucked it all up. If he hadn’t come into their lives, Luke wouldn’t be doing this right now. And it was all Richie’s fucking fault .

“See?” Luke said. “He use to be my friend.”

“No-“ Richie tried to say, but his voice was barely audible.

“So what if Richie was your friend?” Ben asked. “He’s not anymore.”

“Exactly.” Eddie said, holding Richie’s arm more tightly.

“People change.” Ben continued. “I know I sure have.”

“But Richie hasn’t changed.” Luke said. “He’s been working with me this whole time.”

Richie gripped his stereo in his hand. They wouldn’t believe Luke’s lies. They couldn’t. They trusted him, didn’t they?

But if they trusted him then why didn’t he tell them about his past earlier on?

“We’re not going to fall for some petty games of yours.” Stan said. “So don’t bother.”

“But it isn’t a lie.” Luke said, then looked directly at Richie. “Is it? From the moment I arrived here, you’ve been telling me about everything that happened in North and East. Everything that happens between you and your friends.”

“That’s not true-“ Richie said, but his voice was wobbling.

“Really?” Luke said. “Then how do I know about Eddie being gay?”

Absolute silence. Richie realised, with some light-headedness, that everyone in the hall was listening to them.

“What-“ Bev said, looking completely stunned.

“Yeah.” Luke said. “It was one of the first things he told me after I transferred. He always made fun of you, Eddie.”

Eddie turned to look at Richie, and his expression was of complete hurt.

“How could you!?” He said. Then, in a much quieter voice, “I trusted you.”

Without another word, Eddie ran out of the hall.

“Eddie!” Bev called, setting off after him. “Eddie, wait!”

Ben chased after them both too, and when Richie finally managed to mumble “Eds”, he was long gone.

“That’s not all he told me.” Luke said. “But I don’t think I need to say much more. Anyway, I’ll see you in West.”

Then Luke tuned on his heels and left Richie, Bill, Mike and Stan still standing around the table they’d been laughing at not ten minutes before.

How could everything of gone so wrong? Richie was trying to change, he was trying to be a better person, but it had all added up to nothing. Luke had outed Eddie in front of everyone and it was all because of Richie.

“You okay?” A voice asked, and Richie distantly became aware that Mike was speaking to him, with Stan and Bill next to him.

“I’m sorry.” Richie said quietly.

“It’s nuh-nuh-not your fuh-fuh-fault.” Bill said. “I’m suh-suh-sure of i-it.”

Richie remembered telling Bill about his old school. Telling him how he was going to change. How he had change. Now look at him.

“We’ll figure this out, okay?” Stan said gently.

“But Eddie-“ Richie said.

“Bev and Ben are probably with him.” Stan said.

Richie swallowed. Eddie didn’t deserve this. He was one of the purest people Richie had ever met, and a new wave of sadness washed over him.

“I’m sorry.” Richie repeated, not able to form anything else.

“Listen man, we’ll try and find the others and talk to them.” Mike said. “I don’t know what went down at your old school and I don’t know if you and Luke were friends, but I’ve been your friend for the last seven months and I don’t believe you could of done that.”

Richie sniffed and looked at his shoes. He was such a fuck up. He’d ruined himself, he’d ruined the Losers club, he’d ruined everything. No matter how hard he tried, he could never do anything right.

And now the Losers didn’t trust him anymore. Fuck, were they even his friends anymore? He knew Mike said he believed him but Richie could hear the doubt in his voice.

Why should they trust him? He’s a piece of shit anyway. Crap at his old school, crap at his new school. Same fucking person no matter how hard he tried.

“We’ll see you at Dorm, okay?” Stan said, and then him and Mike walked away.

“Wuh-wuh-want me to stuh-stuh-stay.” Bill asked.

“No, you go.” Richie said. “I need time to think.”

“Oh-okay.” Bill said. He rested his hand on Richie’s shoulder for a second, then walked off too.

The hall was talking again now, and the sound was loud in his ears. Teachers were walking in and out, and it crossed Richie’s mind that one of the lunch monitors must of heard what went down.

He hoped they were all okay. He hoped Eddie was okay. If he had to leave their lives completely to make things better, he guessed he would. They’d suffered enough all ready. But hell, would he miss them.

With some amusement, Richie realised he was still holding his stereo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...


	22. An Angel Cried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The losers try to figure things out and Richie makes a decision

**Bill Denbrough, looking outside for Richie Tozier**

Lessons would start in less than ten minutes, but right then, Bill thought lessons could suck a big one.

“Ruh-ruh-richie.” He called again, leaving out of North’s tower and onto the court yard. No reply.

“Cuh-come on Man.” Bill said again, desperately looking around. The fields looked completely empty, a light freeze rustling the bushes and tree. But Bill knew Richie, and he knew if Richie would be hiding anywhere, it would be outside.

“I s-s-saw you luh-leave d-d-dorm.” Bill said loudly. Nothing.

Every since Luke had outed Eddie yesterday, things had been a blur. Eddie hasn’t spoken to anyone, not even Bev, and had gone to the sickbay to sleep, claiming he had a cold. Richie hadn’t spoken to anyone either, going to bed early and waking up the next day even earlier. Ben and Bev had been trying to get to Eddie to talk to him, and even though Matron assured them Eddie could be present in his first lesson, he couldn’t have any visitors. Mike had been trying to talk to Richie too, but so far failed. When Richie shut himself away, he shut himself away. Stan had been stressed the whole of the previous night, kicking himself for not doing anything. Bill tried to remind Stan he couldn’t really do anything, but Stan kept thinking over the day in North Tower, and what he’d heard.

Then there was Bill. Bill didn’t believe Luke, not for a second, but he could see why someone would. Luke and Richie went to the same school, and Luke wasn’t exactly an A star student. If you knew him and Richie use to get along, it wasn’t too big of a jump to think Richie was working with West all along.

But Bill knew Richie, better than he knew himself probably, and he knew Richie wouldn’t been working with West this whole time. It was so un-Richie. If Richie had just told all the Losers about his old school, about what happened there, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad. But Bill knew how Richie liked to bottle things up.

No, it was useless. Luke had outed Eddie, broke apart the Losers Club and blamed it all on Richie. And everyone had seen it. Now Bill was determined to fix things, as hard as that would be. He wasn’t a quitter.

“Ruh-ruh-richie COME O-ON!” Bill yelled, feeling desperate.

Once again, nothing made a sound. Bill was about to give up and try searching the Towers when he heard an unmistakable sniff.

“Ruh-rich?” He said, hurrying over to the bush he’d heard the noise from.

He crouched down and, sure enough, Richie Tozier was behind them, un-opened box of cigarettes next to him.

“Huh-hey.” Bill said meekly.

“I thought formal introductions were behind us.” Richie said, and Bill was shocked to hear how glum he sounded.

Bill moved behind the bush too, so he was sitting next to his best friend, crossing his legs over each other.

“How’s Eddie?” Richie said after a while.

“H-h-he won’t luh-let anyone s-s-see him.” Bill said. “But Buh-buh-buh-Bev and Buh-buh-buh.” Bill stopped and took a breath. “Buh-Ben are t-trying to. I tuh-think he’ll be oh-okay.”

Richie didn’t say anything. Bill guessed Richie blamed himself for what Luke had done, which was utter bullshit. Luke would of done something horrid if Richie had gone to his old school or not. But Richie didn’t know that, of course. It was easier to blame yourself when everything went wrong. Bill knew that too well.

“Wuh-wuh-when Guh-guh-guh-guh-guh-georgie w-went muh-muh-missing, I buh-blamed myself to nuh-nuh-no ends.” Bill said.

“But it wasn’t your fault.” Richie said plainly. “You gave him a paper boat, not a loaded gun.”

“Stu-stu-still, I thought it wuh-was my duh-duh-doing that had kuh-kuh-killed him.” Bill said. “But it wuh-wuh-wasn’t. Guh-guh-guh-guh-“

“Georgie.” Richie said. Bill smiled.

“He du-du-died because of... suh-suh-somethings else. Something th-that has nothing t-to do with muh-muh-me. Sure, I wuh-wuh-wish I could go buh-back in time, but I cuh-couldn’t of known. It was nuh-nuh-never my fault.”

Richie looked at Bill for the first time and gave a small nod.

“I just fuck everything up, yanno? Like I can never do anything right.”

“No-one can du-du everything ru-ru-right.” Bill said. “But you nu-nu-never meant to huh-huh-hurt anyone. That was p-p-p-probably the luh-luh-last thing on your m-mind.”

“But I am the reason Luke did what he did.” Richie said. “Even if I didn’t want him to it couldn’t of known or whatever, I was still the reason.”

“He wuh-wuh-would of done t-the same thing with or wuh-wuh-without you.” Bill said.

Richie sighed and fell back onto the grass. The bell rang.

“You cuh-cuh-coming?” Bill asked.

“Give me a minute.” Richie said.

So Bill did, and they walked to their first lesson together. And Bill hoped Richie knew he didn’t do anything.

He hoped Richie knew it wasn’t his fault.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, alone in Math Class**

If you could get surgery on sexuality, Eddie would’ve taken the opportunity like a shot. Just, why him? He was sure plenty of other people at Whitemore were some other sexuality than straight so why weren’t they outed? Was this karma for something Eddie had said or done or hadn’t done?

He just couldn’t believe he let his trust fall into someone like Richie. How he could be so blind. Richie would’ve probably been Eddie’s last bet on who actually told Luke he was gay. But it all made sense, they went to the same school and now that Eddie thought about it, Richie could’ve easily fallen into Luke’s traps.

Eddie just didn’t think Richie would pull one of him. Maybe all their friendship meant nothing to him. All the happiness and jokes they shared between each other just didn’t even click within Richie. He probably wouldn’t even call him Eds anymore.

He had to be careful what he wished for.

It’s just a matter of time before people start shoving him into lockers. Or ripping up his text books or shoving his bag into toilets. A matter of time before his mother will come pick him up and force tablets down his throat to get rid of his ‘problem’ within him.

Eddie reached for the aspirator that he still kept secretly in the very bottom pocket of his bag, even though he knew he didn’t need it. His friends showed him that. Richie showed him that. But maybe Richie just wanted him to think he didn’t need to so he’d one day die of an asthma attack. He pumped the sweet, medicine tasting air into his lungs and breathed deeply.

But then again, Richie’s face when it all happened was not one he’d expected. It wasn’t full of satisfaction or smugness. It was hurt. And sadness. For Eddie? Maybe not, but even so, he did not look one bit happy.

He just wished he could change himself. Tell everybody that it was one big joke and that he was one of the straightest people anyone could ever meet. Everybody would believe him and he’d go back to actually being happy and he’d have most his friends back and he’d get a life back.

But he knew that wouldn’t happen.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!” Mr smith yelled as he was jolted out of his depressing train of thought. “Mrs Wilson has called for you.”

“Oh, oh-ok.” He stuttered slightly, wondering what else he’d done wrong. He got up out of his seat, tucked his chair under the desk, and walked out of the room, taking a short look back to the losers table and caught Bev’s eye. He shut the door and made his way to Mrs Wilson’s office.

He was desperately urging his mind not to jump to conclusions on why Mrs Wilson has called to see him, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d actually found out. Then what? He’d be expelled for... being himself? Be sent to some sort of ‘straight camp’ so he’d become normal again? Jesus Christ maybe that’d do him some good.

He knocked on the door, taking another breath from his aspirator, and waited patiently. A few short moments of him tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor, the door opened and a grave voice told him to enter.

“Eddie Kaspbrak.” Mrs Wilson smiled at him. Eddie felt no less nervous. “I’m afraid to say I’m aware of the recent happenings.”

Eddie didn’t say a word. He didn’t even know if he could even if he wanted to. He took another breath of his aspirator.

“How have you been holding up?” She spoke softly, looking him in the eye with her own gentle ones.

“Uh-“ Eddie croaked and coughed to clear his throat. “I’ve had better weeks.” Had he though? Because, if he really thought about it, this week might have been considered fine at his house, better even.

“I mean,” she said. “How are you, in yourself.”

“I uh.” He stopped to think about it. “I’m fine.”

“Clearly.” Mrs Wilson said gravely. Eddie breathed deeply to slow down his heart that seemed to be going 1473847373848 beats per second. “I called you here to ask if you wanted to talk about it. If you wanted to go home or someth-“

“No.” Eddie almost whispered. Yes, he didn’t really want to be at Whitemore anymore, but going home would just be ten times worst. But how could he go home if his actual house was no longer his home? He didn’t know if that made sense in his head or not, but either way, maybe he just no longer has a home. No place where he belongs.

“No: you don’t.. want to go home? Or no you don’t want to talk about it?” She asked him. No: he didn’t actually have a home.

“A home is a place where you feel like you belong and feel safe, right?” Eddie said slowly, some would say out of no where.

“A home, yes.” She replied, scrunching her eyebrows subtly in confusion.

“So what’s the difference between a house and a home then?” Eddie knew but thought maybe he was just going crazy in his head.

“Well, a home is where it’s not just where you live, it’s where your family lies and where you feel loved and appreciated and you can be and feel however you want to. A house, well, it’s just a building in which you live in. Not really holding any... feeling, if that makes sense.” Mrs Wilson finished.

“In that case, no I do not want to go back to my house.” Eddie replied to her earlier asked question. He took another puff of his inhaler as Mrs Wilson stared at him.

“Listen Eddie, if there is anything you want to talk about, any of our staff would be more than welcome to listen and help.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated. Maybe he was just overreacting about everything.

“We just want you to be happy.” Mrs Wilson sounded like she was finishing the little meeting that was occurring in her office. “You may stay for how ever long you want, just let us know if there are any more problems.”

Eddie nodded and left the room, taking about his 70th breath of aspirator that seemed to be doing nothing whatsoever.

He just needed more time. More time to think and process. Then, and only then, would he ask how he felt in him self.

Only then. He puffed again.

“I’m fine.”

 

 **Stan Uris, at the end of English Class**  
The lunch bell rang out, interrupting Mrs Foy as she tried to teach the class about present verbs. There was an uproar of chair scraps and loud talk as everyone jumped up, heading off to the dining hall.

“Bill, wait.” Stan said, grabbing Bill’s arm through the crowd of students.

“Wuh-wuh-what’s up?” Bill asked as the final few students filed out, leaving only him and Stan there.

“The whole Richie thing.” Stan said. “We have to do something about it.”

Bill nodded, looking grave. North and East had attended three lessons since this morning, and Richie hadn’t spoken a word in one. What’s more, Eddie had been taken out in their Math lesson, and then he returned, his eyes look remarkably red.

For the first time since the start of the school year, the Losers hadn’t eaten breakfast together either. Richie hadn’t shown up, Eddie had still been in the sick bay, Bev was still attempting to see him, Ben was desperately trying to help Bev, Mike was driving himself crazy in an attempt to find Richie to talk to him, Bill had gone searching and Stan had sat by himself at the table, in his usual seat. Except the other six were empty.

But it absolutely killed Stan to see his friends in so much distress. He couldn’t remember a moment when any of them had looked glummer. And what’s more, everything had been going so well. They were all happy, summer was coming and the war appeared to be over. So why did everything have to go so wrong?

Stan couldn’t just sit around and watch the people he cared for most in the world sink into pools of misery. There had to be something he could do, there was always something you could do.

For them, there was always something Stan would do.

“Any suh-suh-suggestions?” Bill asked Stan. The classroom was now completely empty apart from Mrs Foy, who was packing her bag in the corner.

“Outside.” Stan said. “I’ll explain as we walk.”

The two walked out, and Stan waited until they were both safety out of the classroom before talking.

“Do you remember that day in North Tower? When I was really upset over Mike?” Stan said.

“Yuh-yuh-yeah.” Bill said. “Wuh-wuh-winter time.”

“Mm.” Stan said. “Well, I was thinking over what we heard at the time, when some people from West and South were spying on the dorms.”

“For a p-p-prank.”

“Yeah.” Stan said. “They were trying to find out more about Mike’s party. But one of them mentioned the ‘Eddie Thing’, remember? And when me and Ben found their diary, it also mentioned the ‘Eddie Thing’, so what if they knew all along that Eddie wasn’t straight and they were just waiting to use it against us?”

“Huh-huh-how would they know?” Bill asked.

“Eddie came out to us, minus Bev, in the common room.” Stan said. “It would of been easy for someone to walk past and hear.”

Bill nodded slowly. “Yuh-yuh-you’re right, of c-course. But huh-huh-how do we puh-puh-prove it?”

“We go to their dormitory.” Stan said gravely. He’d been before, with Ben, but now the circumstances seemed so much more worse. Their whole friendship was on the line, and even then Stan wasn’t sure if it was enough. But he had to try something.

Stan grabbed Bill’s arm and they head over the other side of the school, attempting to keep out of other people’s way as to not get questioned. Thankful, everyone was at lunch and the only people around were a few top formers practicing in music rooms.

‘That will be us in a few years’ Stan thought suddenly, and it was such a strange thing to think that he pushed it back down. Besides, he shouldn’t focus on the future when the present was such a mess. It was wasting time.

“Oh-oh-okay.” Bill said when they’d reached South’s dorm. “Th-th-think they’re in th-there?”

“Hope not.” Stan said. “But if they are, the least we could do is talk to them.”

Bill pushed the door opened slowly, and a empty dormitory came into sight.

“Thank fuck.” Bill said, not stuttering.

Stan led the way in, Bill following close behind. Stan tried to think back to the day Ben and him had entered, and where the notebook had been.

“It’s this one.” Stan said, walking over to the second bed next to the door. He crouched down and slowly opened the draw, carefully searching through it until he found the familiar looking notebook.

“That’s bu-bu-bu-bu-bev’s.” Bill said, looking pointedly towards it.

“They took it from her a while back.” Stan said. “But Ben said she hadn’t written much more than her timetable in it.”

Bill looked somewhat reassured by this, and Stan flipped open the back, trying to find the right page. The back pages all had the neat writing, totally different to Bev’s scribbles, and Stan skimed them to find the page he wanted.

“Ah.” He said, pinning the right section down. He cleared his throat and read what was on the page; “Nothing much has happened, can’t find out much about Mike’s party. James heard something about Eddie but we’re in agreement to not use it.”

Stan raised his eyebrows at Bill, who was tilting his head in thoughtfulness.

“They huh-huh-heard E-e-e-e-eddie coming o-out, all ruh-ruh-right. But they s-said they wuh-wuh-wouldn’t use it. What ch-ch-changed?”

Stan sighed and looked back down at the page. If him and Bill were right in their suspicion, which they probably were, West and South had known for a long while about Eddie being gay. But they’d agreed not to use it, so why had they? Richie couldn’t of told them, because Luke had transferred after Christmas and Eddie had come out in October. So then, what had changed.

It was Luke who’d actually outed Eddie but, Stan realised, he wouldn’t of been at Whitemore when James had heard Eddie telling the losers he was gay. So then, had West and South told him, even after saying they weren’t going to use it?

Stan didn’t know.

“Huh-huh-who do yuh-you think told?” Bill asked.

“Beats me.” Stan said. “Maybe West and South told Luke? Or he somehow found out? Gosh, I don’t know, but at least this is enough to prove that Richie didn’t do it.”

“Puh-puh-poor Ru-ru-ru-ru-richie.” Bill said sadly.

Stan made sure the draw was as he found it, then him and Bill left, Stan with the diary.

And if all worked out fine, Stan hoped he wouldn’t have to eat alone again.

 

**Mike Hanlon, in a hallway for whatever reason**

“Hey where did Stan and Bill go?” Mike asked, noticing Bev’s hand was not entangled in Bill’s hand as soon as they got out into the hallway from English.

“I think I saw them head outside a few minutes ago.” Bev replied, wriggling her fingers absentmindedly as if they’d heard Mike’s thought. They walked to their common room, not expecting to see either Eddie or Richie there. In fact Mike hadn’t seen Eddie since that morning, not since Mrs Wilson came and took him to have a chat. And Mike was pretty sure Richie was skiving somewhere. Probably in some sort of bush on the outskirts of the field. Mike sighed sadly.

What ever the fuck was going on, Mike did not like it. The silence of Eddie and Richie in all lessons. The fact Eddie won’t even be in the same room as Richie if he could help it. It just was not right. He didn’t care what Luke said, Mike knew Richie and trusted him. Yes, he didn’t know everything about schools and trust and friendships broken, but he did know that last one wasn’t going to happen. They were the losers club and will always be the losers club, and Mike was going to get them back. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same as before Luke outed Eddie, but maybe it will just bind them all closer.

Actually, correction, it would bind them closer together, so really, Luke just did them a favour. A miracle in disguise, Mike would call it. Because even the best friendships have their ups and downs, and that’s why they are the best type. Because the problems, bring them together in an eventually unbreakable force of which is friendship.

Mike became suddenly motivated and strode up to Ben and Bev, not realising that he slowed down in walking speed when he walked, when he was stopped by a few teens from south and west. Specifically James, Thomas and Anne.

“Listen I don’t wanna hear whatever you have to say-“ Mike attempted walking away from them when Anne spoke up to stop him.

“Wait, please just, hear us out for a minute.” Mike heard the pleading in her voice. He turned around begrudgingly.

“Why should I do that? You are the reason Eddie is spending every single night in the sick bay.” Mike almost spat. “You all are the reason Richie is hating on himself to shit, so much he won’t speak to anyone of us. So unless you’re hiding Richie and Eddie behind there, happy, then I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Mike Listen!” James yelled suddenly. Mike only now noticed the unhappiness in all of their eyes, how it seeped into their posture. They almost looked... sorry?

“Why are you looking so sorry for yourself? I suppose you’re happy that our half and friendships are going to absolute crap.” Mike spoke coldly, trying not to lash out right at their faces there and then.

“We aren’t sorry for ourselves,” Thomas started, stopping Mike from turning around and walking away again. “We’re sorry for you.”

Mike looked at them for a minute, waiting for some sort of joke to come out of it or for them to break down into laughter right in front of them. He’d actually like them to see what would happen if they did. “If you’re gonna make a joke out of this, I suggest you save it for another day.”

“Jesus Mike we aren’t joking! Do you realise how much we are risking to even talk to you right now?” James said lowly, looking around if some sniper were about to jump out from a classroom.

“Luke would probably crucify us if he knew we were trying to apologise to you!” Anne hissed urgently.

“Wait.” Mike attempted to process what had just been said. “You’re trying to apologise? For what? How well your sad little prank went?”

“No, for what Luke did.” Said Thomas, looking down at his shoes almost in shame.

“But, aren’t you on his side?” Mike asked in utter confusion. “You had to be the one who told him Eddie was gay, he came out in October and if I recall correctly, Luke transferred after Christmas.”

“Yes, we told him, but we never meant to do anything with that information, we just had it. And we promised we’d never use it.” James said and the other two nodded their heads in agreement.

“Well how come you knew in the first place?” Mike knew but he’d love to hear it from them.

“Well we found out during prank wars, but that’s besides the point.” Anne replied.

“Ok so, how come you didn’t stop Luke from outing Eddie then?” Mike crossed his arms, getting agitated at even mentioning what happened a week back.

“That’s the thing, we would’ve, but he didn’t even tell us!” Thomas exclaimed.

“Probably because he knew we would’ve tried to stop him.” James explained.

“Mm.” Mike hummed, still not at all happy with south or west, but he could allow himself to believe that’s what happened. That’s just something Luke would do. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? For all I know you could be just covering for Luke while he plans his next attack on another one of us.”

“Well I guess you can’t, but you’ll just have to trust us.” Anne sighed.

“Ok well, I just hope you are telling the truth.” Mike said and started to walk to the common room. He heard the three sigh again and walk off down the stairs.

He really, more than anything, wished he could trust him.

 

 **Richie Tozier, sitting in North Tower alone**  
It was way past Midnight but Richie honestly couldn’t care less. The moon was full, and it shone brightly through the tall windows, lighting up the school.

Richie was sitting on the staircase in North Tower, a few steps up from his dormitory. He’d only been in there when Mrs Henderson did her rounds, so no one got in any more trouble because of him. She had shut the door and not two minutes later, Richie was up, leaving as fast as he could.

No one had asked where he was going but Richie expected that. Everybody hated him, and honestly, who could blame them? He was obnoxious and awkward and annoying and the worst person to ever attend Whitemore.

Actually, it would probably be better if he left.

Of course it would be better if he left, all he ever did was fuck things up. Fucked up at his old school, fucked up at home and he’d fucked up here.

He laughed bitterly, and the sound echoed up the Tower. To think, at the start of Whitemore he’d actually been hopeful. And now look.

He couldn’t stay here. He wanted to, desperately so, but he knew it would be better for his friends. Or ex friends. They probably hated him too.

But he didn’t need to think about that. No matter how much they detested him, Richie still cared about them. He’d die for them still, he knew. Leaving Whitemore would be the best for them. Seeing his face around would only remind them of what had happened.

So Richie decided to phone his parents first thing tomorrow. He’d beg and beg to leave, threaten to run away if not. He just couldn’t bare to hurt them anymore.

Richie felt his eyes flutter shut despite himself. He was tired, and he hadn’t had any proper rest in a while; he hadn’t been able to get to sleep last night.

He got up and quietly made his way down the stairs, heading over to the bathroom. Maybe a glass of water would help keep him awake.

He trod carefully, aware of how much trouble he’d be in if a teacher found him wandering the school at night. Then again, did it really matter if he was leaving?

Leaving. He wondered how disappointed his parents would be. And to think, just a few weeks ago he’d called them and promised them he’d do better. But he knew he couldn’t stay. Maybe he’d be sent off to another boarding school. Maybe he wouldn’t mess things up as much.

He would miss the Losers like crazy though. No friends he would make could ever replace them. They just had a connection that was so much more than a normal school friendship. It’s like they almost shared their minds or hearts. Soulmates.

What bullshit. If they were soulmates, this wouldn’t of happened. Yes Richie would miss them, but after a while he’d move on. It was no big deal, really. He always thought too much. Richie strongly believed that thinking was a waste of time.

But when he wasn’t thinking of leaving he was thinking about Eddie. How heart broken he had looked when Luke had said what he’d said.

I trusted you...

This was hardest on Eddie, and everyone knew it. Not only had he been seemingly betrayed, like all the Losers, but now the whole school knew he was gay. Richie wasn’t totally sure how people felt about people liking people who were the same gender as them, but if it was anything like his old school then he wouldn’t be the only one leaving Whitemore.

Richie just hoped and hoped that no one said anything. Did anything. Eddie had already been told before that he was sick, he didn’t need to be told it again by a bunch of ignorant teens.

If he could do anything, Richie would of. And if he could of, he would of visited Eddie too. Because he missed Eddie like hell. Like another half of him had disappeared.

But Eddie wouldn’t want to talk to him, and whatever they’d had was ruined the moment Luke opened his mouth. So there was no point thinking about him.

Richie sighed and turned the corner, into the large bathrooms on the second floor. His feet were bare, and felt cold on the tile floor. But Richie hardly minded, and he knew he’d be quick.

Heading over to the sink, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

Drinking slowly, he looked out the window over the sinks and let himself look at Whitemore and its grounds for probably the last time.

From where he was standing, he could see the tennis courts and playing fields. They were illuminated perfectly by the moon, and Richie smiled slightly as he remembered all the times spent with the Losers there. He couldn’t see the village from here, but he could see the tips of trees that made the forest, and part of the shore close by.

Oh, he’d miss this alright. He’d miss this plenty. But it didn’t matter how he felt. All that mattered was that his friends could go on again. And that meant one less loser, then so be it.

Richie’s eyes trailed over to parts of the school he could see. From the bathrooms in North tower, West’s Tower and all connecting it could be seen. That would be where the hall is, on the ground floor. And the many Math and English classrooms too.

Richie pinpointed these out in his head, smiling ever so slightly as he remembered all the times he’d been there.

His eyes flickered up and he looked out at the scene in front of him. Except this time, something caught his attention.

There was a funny red light dancing near West tower, where the sick bay was.

Richie squinted and leaned towards the window, trying to see better. He tilted his head and managed to get a better view of it. And that’s when he almost dropped his glass in shock.

The sick bay was on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -has been planning this exact moment since September-


	23. Four Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whitemore’s on fire and it’s seems like Richie is the only one who knows  
> 

**Richie Tozier, in North’s bathroom**

“Holy fucking-“ Richie stared out of the window, watching as the bright orange and yellow flames danced around the window, sending sparks cascading down the brick wall and fizzling out just before they hit the grass. The jolts and bolts of the untamed fire silhouetted the inside of the room, casting out shadows to Richie’s eyes and reflecting on his glasses. It seemed his shoes had been glued to the floor, head cloudy and hypnotised by the enchanting shapes that shone, until a deeply familiar shape had shadowed, breaking whatever spell of paralysation he was under. “Shit!”

He bolted down the stairs, yelling at the top of his lungs feeling as if those, too, were burning to a crisp. Richie knocker helplessly on walls and doors, praying that some of them were teachers bedrooms. He rounded a corner but was hauled to a stop by what he assumed was Mrs Henderson’s voice.

“What In the world is going on?” She walked towards Richie, rubbering her bleary eyes in attempt to see who made such a wild noise at one a.m in the morning. “Richie Tozier, is that you?”

“I’m glad you remember what I look like in the dark.” He panted, out of breath.

“Don’t make me anymore mad than I already am.” She said coldly. “Now What has gotten into you? Waking up everybody like there is some fi-“

“Fire?” He finished for her. “Yeah, cause there is one.” Richie jumped as if he suddenly remembered what he was doing.

“What? Where? Richard get back here!” Mrs Henderson yelled after him.

“I would, I really would.” Richie shouted from running down some steps. “But you see the sick bay is on fire and,” he stopped at the bottom of the stairs to make sure she could hear him. “It seems I’m the only one awake to save them.”

“Them?” Was the last Richie heard of the mistress before he wrenched open the door to north and east tower and made a run for it towards west.

“Why the fuck would I decide to run through the field when there are perfectly PERFECTLY good hallways for me to get to the blasted sick bay?” He panted to himself as he raced through the field as if there were a pack of wolves chasing him down for them to feed off him for their lavishing dinner. Jesus he didn’t know shit about fires, or how to stop them, or how to save somebody from a thirty foot high window which most probably will be on fire while carrying them down on two pieces of wood of which many call ‘ladders’.

What if he dropped them? What if he couldn’t save them in time? What if the sick bay burns down to ashes and he can’t even get to the person? What if he’s the fault of somebody’s death?

Now would be a spiffing time if he could focus just on actually getting to the sick bay. And quickly. He’d sped into west tower and continued to scream and knock on anything that resembled walls and doors, since his glasses had steamed up rapidly with the quick change of temperature, and wished that his brain asking questions hadn’t made him almost trip up over his own two feet.

The air was already quickly becoming thicker by the minute and Richie, through his almost un-see-through-able glasses, could make out a dark grey haze of smoke descending from up the stairs. He pulled up his pyjama shirt over his nose, which really didn’t do shit, and ploughed on up the stairs.

Suddenly a great loud siren began to ring, making Richie almost tumble down the stairs in alarm.

“Of course! The fire alarm! What dumb shit are you on to not press the fucking fire alarm dipshit?!” He cursed to himself as he regained his balance, only now wondering why the sick bay had so many flights of stairs to get to it if someone was dying. Which they are.

He finally got to the floor and rapped on matrons office, thoughts rAcing. What if Matron was the one he saw in the sick bay? What if it was someone from his year? Oh fuck.

He knocked harder, soon giving up when he realised probably too late that nobody was actually in there. He was tempted to roll across the corridor in a ninja kind of style he’d seen once but then remembered that they were fucking lame tv shows that were planned and this was a real fucking situation where someone could potentially die. Fun.

Instead he just ran to the next door and tried twisting open the handle for the actual sick bay. Oh but it couldn’t be that easy could it! Something had to fucking happen which would stop Richie Tozier from saving the person that could possibly be Eddie Kaspbrak, his mind droned on at him in annoyance.

“Well what the fuck now?” Richie wheezed through his shirt as he twisted helplessly at the handle. He was about to run off to get help when he heard breathless coughing.

And he meant, breathless, coughing.

“Shit.”

 

 **Beverly Marsh, sleeping in East’s dormitory as the Sick Bay burns**  
It was a soft, distant sound to start with. Something that could of been mistaken for someone walking or something. But then it got louder. Louder and desperate.

“Fire!”

Bev turned around in her bed, still half asleep. Her mind was foggy, and she was about to float off again when she heard the cries.

“Fire! Someone help, there’s a fire!”

Bev bolted up in her bed. Fire. There was a fire. Was there? She rubbed her eyes roughly, heart pounding in her chest. Was she still dreaming, or was there actually a fire. There wouldn’t be, surely...?

“Guys!” She said, still trying to process everything.

“Mmm.” Patty said, waking up, maybe from the shouts maybe from Bev.

“Patty, oh God, I heard something I swear I did-“ Bev began, but was cut off.

“Fire!”

The voice was growing quiet again, as if the person screaming it was getting further and further away, but what they were saying was still distinctive.

“Holy crap!” Patty said, and sprang our of her bed. Bev did the same, chills going up her spine.

Only her and Patty were awake, the rest of East still sleeping dully. If it was true, and it was seeming more and more so, the fire could spread this way. Heck, the fire could be burning down East Tower right now? Were people already dead? No, they couldn’t be. This couldn’t be real. This just couldn’t...

Panic was washing over Beverly now, and for a moment she couldn’t move. Then Patty shook her violently, and Beverly fell back to earth.

“Bev, oh gosh, what do we do?” Patty said, eyes wide in horror.

“Wake everyone.” Bev said, voice coming out calm. “We have to get everyone up, and fast.”

Patty swallowed and nodded, then running over the end of the room and started violently shaking Alison.

“GET UP!” She yelled.

Bev knew what she had to do, and she sprinted to the other end of the room, also yelling.

“FIRE! FIRE! THERE A FUCKING FIRE NOW GET UP!”

Most of the girls were rising up now, blinking in confusion. Beverly continued to yell, shaking the girls she past.

“FIRE! THERES A FIRE SOMEWHERE, WE HAVE TO GET OUT!”

“Holy fuck-“ Greta said, sitting up in bed, stark white. “Oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck-“

“Is anyone hurt?!” Chloe said, hurrying out of her bed.

“WE DONT KNOW!” Patty said, still yelling. “BUT THERES A FIRE, NOW GET THE HELL UP!”

All the East girls were getting out of bed by now, some grabbing their dressing gowns and slippers, others close to crying.

“EVERYONE!” Chloe yelled, voice louder and stronger than either Bev or Patty. “We have to stay calm, got it? I know that sounds crazy, but if what Bev and Patty say is true then it’s up to us to wake everyone!”

“But-“ Greta sobbed, eyes right red.

“BUT NOTHING, GRETA BOWIE!” Patty yelled. “THIS ISNT THE TIME, FOR FUCKS SAKE!”

“We have more chance of surviving if we don’t panic!” Chloe said. “Now, get into a line. We’ll go outside, that’s where we’re meant to gather in case of a fire.”

The girls lined up, maybe scared but determined. Bev fitted into the first of the line and she looked back at them hurriedly. She suddenly felt very proud of them. The school could be on fire and she was half scared to death, but they were all keeping it together.

“GO! LEAVE! EXIT!” Patty yelled from the back of the line, and Bev pushed the door opened, leading the girls out swiftly as she could.

“Who else knows about this?” Audra yelled, her face paper white.

“We don’t know!” Chloe said, and a trickle of despair went through Bev. This wasn’t something children had to deal with, Adults were meant to deal with this sort of stuff. They’d call the fire department and firefighters would come and put it out and then it would be over. No one got hurt, and nothing went wrong. Adults were meant to handle these things!

But there were no adults, and there was no firefighters. There were just girls. Eight scared, worried, small little girls.

Eight little girls who would do what they could to save the school. And Bev realised suddenly, in the middle of the total chaos, that sometimes its the Children who actually care.

“Pair off.” She said suddenly. “PAIR OFF! GO UP THE TOWER AND WAKE EVERYONE. YELL, HIT, WHATEVER! JUST BE FAST!”

Everyone looked utterly stunned for a second. Then Chloe set off up the stairs, yelling something about waking the top form.

Buffy and Emily ran up after, hand in hand, to wake the fifth year. Alison and Patty went to do fourth and Greta all but flew up the stairs to wake third. Audra followed to wake second and Bev felt something flicker inside her heart.

Just keep moving. Keep moving forward and for god’s sake, don’t look back!Don’t think about it, or you’ll freeze, Bev! Do it for Whitemore, do it for the Losers.

The Losers...

“Fuck!” Bev said, and sprinted down the corridor, heading to North’s dormitory.

Fortunately, it wasn’t that long of a walk from North and East, and Bev made it there in less than thirty seconds, panting.

She flung open the door to the first years Dormitory. She hadn’t seen any signs of fire on her way there, but she was painfully aware of a smoke smell that was gradually growing stronger.

“WAKE UP!” She screamed. “WAKE UP EVERYONE! THERES A FIRE, YOU HEAR ME? A FIRE! NOW GET THE HELL UP! OH FOR GODS SAKE, GET UP? PLEASE!”

There were mumbles and a few people sat up in bed.

“Bev?” Stan asked, and Bev could of cried in relief. “What the hell-“

“THERES A FIRE!” Bev continued to yell. “GET EVERYONE UP, OKAY STAN? GET THEM UP ANS MAKE SURE THEY KNOW WHATS GOING ON. TRY TO WAKE AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE BUT DONT TAKE TOO LONG. TAKE THEM OUTSIDE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, GOT IT? OUTSIDE! OUT-FUCKING-SIDE!”

Stan’s face completely drained of colour. “Fire?” He said, voice quiet in Bev’s ringing ears.

“YES!” Bev screamed desperately. “THERES A FIRE! NOW DO WHAT I SAID STAN, PLEASE! DO IT FOR US, FOR WHITEMORE! JUST GET EVERYBODY UP, ITS UP TO YOU! STAY CALM AND GET EVERYBODY! THE! FUCK! UP!”

For a moment Bev felt sure Stan was going to faint. Then he gave a curt nod, and he climbed out of bed.

“Everyone, up!” He said loudly.

A few boys were already up, looking around in confusion. Bev just hoped Stan could take charge.

“Bev?” Ben asked. “Is that Bev? Bev why-“

“NO TIME!” Bev screamed again. “JUST LISTEN TO STAN AND GET UP!”

With that she ran from their doorway, heading back to where she’d left the others. The whole thing was a minute or so, but to Bev it would of been a whole lifetime.

She skidded to a stop at the bottom of East’s staircase, looking around wildly.

“Beverly!” Audra cried, and she turned to see them standing a little down the corridor.

“Thank God!” Chloe said, running from the front of the group to meet Bev. “We didn’t know where you’d gone! I thought-“

“I woke up North!” Bev said, her voice feelingly scratchy.

“The rest of East are awake!” Emily said. “They’ll come soon, but we have to leave!”

“Then let’s go!” Bev yelled, and East began to hurry down the corridor, faces scared.

Bev was shaking as she walked, half from fear and half from adrenaline. She felt as if she could just drop down and start crying uncontrollably. But she knew that would be no use. Whitemore was at stake here, and for that reason she kept it together. She was absolutely terrified, no doubt. She that didn’t mean she was about to give up.

Just keep moving...

The girls reached the end of the corridor and were about to go down the main stairs when Patty let out a scream. Bev crashed into Chloe, who had crashed into Alison.

“Holy crap, the sick bay is on fire!” Buffy cried.

Bev saw, along with the rest of East. From where they’d come to a stop, they could just see the sick bay. Bright, maddening flames were dancing in front of the doorway. It was a hundred things. It was dread and it was loud and it was menacing and it was killing. Dark smoke was filling the corridor, darkening the once light walls. Everything it touched, it destroyed. And fast. Oh, so fast.

Greta began to cough, her chest heaving up and down alarmingly.

“COVER YOUR MOUTHS!” Bev yelled. “AND YELL! WE’LL MAKE OUR WAY DOWN BUT WE’LL YELL TOO! WAKE THE REST UP!”

The girls pressed their cupped hands over their mouths and ducked their heads down, running down the stairs. Each one was yelling at the top of their voices, occasionally spluttering from the smoke.

It seemed so real now. So dangerous. What if not everyone was awake? The fire flashed in Bev’s mind again, and she yelled louder, her throat aching now.

They all made it to the entrance and ran out onto the felid, taking deep breaths in.

Bev looked up at the deep blue sky and she tried to control her breathing, and she was struck with how still it was. The stars looked so calm in the sky, so perfect. Yet behind her...

She turned around and East made a line behind her. By now, people were running out of the school, yelling and crying. Teachers were heading too and fro, and students began to line up next to East. In the distance, Bev saw she saw the Losers making their way over.

A sense of triumph took over her. They’d done it. They’d been scared, but they’d still done it.

“The school! Say, look at the school!” Someone yelled, and Bev looked up at the school she’d grown to call her home.

The side of the school was burning angrily, the fire lighting the night.

And Bev was suddenly hit with emotions so strong she took several steps back.

Whitemore was one fire.

 

 **Richie Tozier, outside the Sick Bay**  
The fire was really overwhelming now. Smoke was creeping around Richie, and he tried to breathe through his hand and he kicked the Sick Bay’s door open.

It flung backwards, smoke coming out in waves. Richie hacked incredibly, tears streaming down in face.

No, there’s no time to waste, Richie. There’s a fire, for christ’s sake! Anyone could be in there! Your friends could be in there!

Trying to ignore the dread in his stomach, Richie ran into the room, shielding his eyes from the thick, grey smoke.

The room was almost unseeable. The flames were coming from the corner of the room, from, Richie realised, the fire place.

Wasting no time, he sprinted across the room, to where the smoke wasn’t as bad. It was there that the terrible coughing sound was coming from.

Richie tried to make his way to the shaking lump in the bed. The coughs were getting worse and worse, more breathless, and for a moment Richie had the terrible idea that it was Eddie Kaspbrak dying in that bed.

“Hello?” Richie tried to say, but the smoke invaded his lungs and he doubled up as he coughed.

His whole body shook and his eyes were watering drastically. Everything was pressing into him, and it took everything Richie had to not run out of that room screaming.

He tried to control his breathing again, reminding himself that he could give up now.

As fast as he could, Richie made his way over to the bed. A small looking boy Richie identified as a boy from West was covering his breath, his whole face flushed deep red. His eyes widened at Richie, and a flicker of hope crossed his eyes.

Richie helped him out of bed while trying to keep his own mouth covered at the same time. The room was unbearably hot by now, and Richie scanned it for any way of escape.

His heart sunk when he looked over at the door. Flames were completely covering it, preventing any way of escape from him or Robert. Which only left the window.

Richie ran over to the other side of the room, arm around Robert. He reached it and pushed with all his might, hoping and hoping that it would open.

It pushed back and Richie almost cried in happiness. He pushed it until it was completely ajar, and took large gulps of breath in. Then, he looked down.

It was a complete drop, and he knew that there was no chance of him or Robert surviving that. Which left one option...

“LADDER!” Richie yelled from the window. “LADDER! SOMEONE GET ME A LADDER!”

Robert was still hacking up coughs next to him, and Richie could hear the fire getting louder and louder.

“A LADDER! WE NEED A LADDER, A FUCKING LADDER! SOMEBODY, PLEASE!”

Richie searched the groups desperately, but saw no one. Who else knew about the fire? Surely people would be out by now. But how fast do fires actually spread...?

“Holy shit, there’s a kid up there!”

The voice might as well of been an Angels. Richie looked down and made out a few figures in the ground. Other people were running to join them, some even running past.

“YES!” Richie cried. “YES, WE’RE UP HERE, NOW GET A LADDER! GET A LADDER ELSE-“

Else you’ll choke. Else you’ll fall. Else you’ll die.

“SOMEOBODY!” The figure bellow cried. “GRAB A LADDER FROM THE GAMES SHED! BE QUICK!”

“DONT JUST BE QUICK!” Richie yelled. “RUN LIKE THE DEVILS CHASING YOU!”

But people were already running, heading off in the night. It had to be enough, oh lord please may it be enough.

Richie hoped and hoped and the fire grew and grew.

 

 

**Mike Hanlon, outside Whitemore as the fire grows**

“Lines, everybody in your y-your dorm lines. Quickly in alphabetical order!” Mrs Foy yelled in fear, grabbing frantically at her dorm register. Mrs Wilson walked over to her calmly, taking the megaphone from her and nodding in attempt to chill her out.

“Can everybody get into your dorm lines, alphabetically would be preferable, but do not worry if you cannot. Your head of dorm will be with you at all times so don’t worry.”

Mike and the losers hurried to Mrs Henderson and bustled around asking for last names, singing through the alphabet as they got into place.

“Well certainly didn’t expect this when I was going to sleep a couple of hours ago.” Mike mused, attempting to not let fear get the better of him and start screaming around like a three year old girl who lost her doll.

“D-d-duh-don’t think e-eh-any of us w-were.” Bill replied, scratching at his knuckles nervously. Bill had a tendency of itching his knuckles whenever he became uncontrollably nervous, which wasn’t very often, Mike noticed.

“Who do you think’s in there?” Stan said in a nonchalant matter. If Mike couldn’t see Stan or that his lips were pressed so tightly together they’d lost colour or that his eyes darted around at any slight movement of anything, he would’ve thought he was as cool as a cucumber. Instead he just looked cold, like somebody had pressed an ice block to his entire face and made it turn bright pink. It was either that or the reflection of the flames that they were practically stood under.

“Could be no one.” Ben said to his thumbs, trying to reassure himself as much as anybody else. “I mean maybe nobody was ill and everybody was just miraculously well so no one is in there and everyone is out here safely and it will only be a couple of beds and files that will be burnt down to absolute zero.”

“Ben’s right,” Eddie spoke for the first time, in days. “I was the only one in there when I slept in there a couple of days ago.”

“Eddie,” Mike smiled as brightly as he could with all that was going on at that moment. Because he genuinely missed his best friend. They all did. For him to even walk up to them was a big deal for them all. “How have you been-“

“Everybody quiet I’m about to do the register.” Mrs Henderson cut everybody off, shouting over the fire alarm that seemed to be ringing to wake up the whole town, maybe whole continent. Everybody hushed up and glanced around nervously, a few jumping back or jolting every time a small flame flew out of the window and down the hard brick wall.

“Jesus fuck its spreading.” Eddie took a breath of his aspirator as he stared up at the flames spreading to the next window along from the sick bay. Mike raised his eyebrows in alarm as he saw Eddie pump the air down his throat. When had Eddie started using his aspirator again? Was Luke the reason of this? Of course Luke was the cause for this. His ass outed the guy.

“Bill Denbrough?”

“Here m-m-m-muh-m-m-”

“Ok Bill you’re here great uh Blake Everington!”

“J-juh-Jesus. E-ever feel like r-r-ripping your v-vocal chords out?” Bill groaned in frustration, and Mike felt his throat absentmindedly.

“It’s fine she knows you’re here.” Mike patted his back for comfort, using his other hand to wipe of sweat, that was either from the heat of the fire or his absolute fear of everything that was happening at that current moment, off his forehead.

“Mike Hanlon?”

“Yes miss!” Mike yelled back, watching her nod and momentarily sigh with relief. He started to cough and splutter as a huge puff of smoke suddenly descended of all of them. Mike turned to the losers and saw Bev help Eddie with his aspirator while he gasped for breath. God Mike didn’t know what he’d do if he lost one of them, or any of them. As in lost, lost. Like, gone up to the heavens lost. He just, wouldn’t know how he’d live with himself.

“Ben Hanscom!”

“Y-Yes,” Ben wheezed heavily. “Yes miss!”

“Is everyone alright?” Matron walked over to them, scanning everybody for any injury or illness bar coughing. She couldn’t exactly sort that one out for the time being for all children on the field.

“Define ‘alright’.” Allison hacked loudly from her chest.

“Well none of you are lying on the floor so i’ll check all of you up once the fire is put out.” Matron hurried on to the next dorm lines.

“Yeah uh speaking of,” Bev called. “When is that happening?”

“Soon enough.” Matron replied while checking up on some second formers. Soon is never soon enough, Mike remembered Madame saying when he was asked to some homework which he missed the due date of.

‘I’ve done the homework I swear, i just left it in the uh, the common room.’ Mike had lied one break time.

‘When will I gets this homework then?’ She replied sarcastically.

‘Soon.’ Mike started to speed walk down the hall way.

‘Soon is never soon enough.’ Mike heard her mumble as he legged it down the stairs.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!”

“H-h-here.” Mike heard a raspy whisper.

“He’s here!” Mike answered for him. He walked over to Eddie. “Are you ok?”

“Just fine.” He smiled a weak smile.

“Richie Tozier?” Now thinking about it, Mike hadn’t seen Richie once in the past hour, actually, not in the past few hours.

“Wh-wh-where’s Richie?” Bill spoke urgently.

“Richie isn’t here?” Eddie’s eyes widened at the speed of light.

“Richie Tozier?”

“Holy fucking shit where is he?” Stan almost yelled.

“Richie?!” A gut-wrenching scream came from the inside of Bev’s chest, and suddenly reality came crushing down onto Mike like a boulder free falling from an unstable cliff right onto his heart.

“Where is Richie Tozier? This is not a time for one of your jokes Richie!” Mrs Henderson shouted louder than the actual fire siren.

“Richie!” Eddie yelled weakly.

And that’s when it dawned on Mike. Richie was the one who was stuck in the sick bay.

 

 **Richie Tozier, stuck in the Sick Bay as a fire burns behind him**  
Richie had never really been afraid of heights before. As a child, he would always be the one kid to climb to the top of trees and jump down. But now, leading out of a window with a fire behind him, there was definitely something unnerving about climbing down the ladder.

It didn’t even seem that stable. What if it fell as he was half way down it? Then what?

“COME ON!” Someone yelled from below.

Richie was about to say something back but as soon as he opened his mouth he started coughing uncontrollably.

The fire had almost completely destroyed the sick bay now. If Richie had looked back, all he would be able to see would be dark, dark smoke and bright orange flames. It was terrifying. The thing behind him would kill him in seconds. In fact it was killing him. The smoke was making it harder and harder to breathe, and Richie knew if he didn’t move in the next thirty seconds the fire would spread all the way to the window.

“Get onto the ladder!” Richie yelled at Robert, who was now double with his coughs.

“MOVE ONTO THE LADDER!” Someone yelled from outside, and Robert looked shakily up at Richie. His eyes were bloodshot and tears were streaming down his face. For a moment, Richie forget whatever bravery he had. All he saw in Robert’s face was fear. Complete and utter fear. They were walking across a tight-rope of death, and one wobble would send them down. Just like that. Richie read somewhere that the most painful way to die was being burnt alive. God, when he read that he probably just shuddered at the thought. But now? Now there was a great, roaring fire behind him and in a matter of seconds his skin could be burning away.

He couldn’t do this. No way. This could be real, this couldn’t be happening...

“GET ON THE FUCKING LADDER YOU PUSSIES!”

Richie swallowed and looked down out the window. He could just make out figures in the smoking night, small, distant people bellow. Bellow where there was no fire and there was no chance of death, a very really death.

“Go on!” Richie cried at Robert.

Robert looked at the ladder then at Richie. His eyes were the picture of fear and loss, reflecting the flames. But with trembling legs, he climbed out the window and onto the ladder.

A large cheer went up from outside and Robert began to climb down the ladder, his eyes tightly shut.

Richie placed his hands on the window sill and took a breath in. More smoke filled his lungs, the horrible burning smell taking over completely. Richie began to cough again, except this time he couldn’t get it under control. His whole body shook, and lights danced in front of his eyes. Everything felt heavy. Something was dragging him down. Or was it up? He felt like he was floating away. The noises became distant and quiet and all he heard was the fast drumming of his heart beat.

He felt light headed, so light headed, but he didn’t feel scared anymore. He didn’t feel anything anymore. Maybe he was dying. Up in the sick bay, as people screamed below and the fire screamed behind. Maybe this is death. But it was so quiet, so peaceful. Just like falling to sleep.

“RICHIE GET TO THE LADDER! RICHIE DEAR GOD PLEASE JUST GET TO THE LADDER! THE FUCKING LADDER THE FUCKING LADDER RICHIE JUST-“

That voice was familiar. Familiar and desperate.

Richie looked up out of the window, and just like that everything was loud again. The crackling of the fire was almost next to his ear now, and his skin was screaming with heat.

The ladder...

Richie pulled himself out of the window, still coughing. As swiftly as he could, he swung his body over onto the ladder, gripping it as hard as possible. His eyes were blurry with tears but he couldn’t wait. Half squinting, he began to climb down.

A large cheer went off.

His arms ached like mad, like they were on fire himself, but Richie kept doing. It hurt, it really really hurt, but he tried to focus on those six familiar voices down below and continued to climb.

“COME ON RICHIE, COME ON!”

“HES HALF WAY THERE! HES GOING TO MAKE IT!”

“JUST KEEP CLIMBING MAN, K-KEEP CLIMBING!”

Richie was taking shaky breathes through his mouth by now, but he didn’t even realise. All he knew was the steady rhythm of the climb. Leg down, hand down, leg down, hand down, leg down, hand down...

Then his leg moved down and touched the grass. He stumbled back off the ladder, blinking madly. Suddenly, people were pressing around him, hugging him and screaming.

He could just make out the faces of the losers in the burning light of Whitemore before he fainted dead away.

 

**Bill Denbrough, outside on Whitemore’s grounds along with (now) the whole school**

“Where the fuck are the firefighters?” Eddie yelled as he held the unconscious Richie’s head in his arms, propping him up a little. “Did anybody-“ he coughed deeply. “Did anybody even actually phone these fucke-“

“That’s enough now, Eddie.” Matron said calmly, Bill had watched her flinch ever so slightly at all the curse words Eddie was shooting out of his mouth. “I’ll take Richie and get him sorted out.”

“B-but-“

“If you want him to be healthy again, I suggest you get up, and leave him with me.” She said sternly, but not meanly. Eddie begrudgingly got up and stood over by Bill, watching as Richie was picked up by Matron and another first aid member and taken to a clear space at the far of the field.

“I d-d-d-don’t know if y-y-you have all f-forgotten,” Bill spoke up as teachers bustled all over the breathless children. “B-b-b-buh-b-“

“What are you trying to get at Bill?!” Luke yelled at him, Bill, regrettably, sighed and attempted at not lashing out completely at the asshole who was stood before him.

“Fuck off Luke, go out another person who didn’t deserve any of this shit.” Bev flipped him off and motioned at Bill to continue with his point. “Continue.”

“Uh, Wh-W-Whitemore is uh s-s-still on f-fire.” He pointed up to the next three windows along from the sick bay, watching as the fire still grew and grew, swallowing away anything its way to get to its final destination. Wherever that may be.

Bill dreaded to think.

Suddenly streaks of sirens tumbled down through the town, jumping everybody out of their trance of which the majestic flames had put them in. And at that very moment, Bill got ten times more scared than he was five seconds ago. If hypnotising everybody was one thing it was capable of, amongst burning everything in its way, Bill really did not want to think what else it could do.

The engine coughed and steamed as it rammed up into the school playing field, firefighters yelling urgently at the breathless teachers and students to stand away from the entire building and head to the fence. Bill took Beverly’s hand and ran with the other losers, Well nearly all of the other losers, to the very back corner fence.

“Surely,” Ben panted. “Surely they should tell us to go into town instead of running to a fence with no escape?”

“Yeah, what if the fire spreads down onto the grass and corners us by this wooden fence?” Mike emphasised dramatically on the word ‘wooden’.

“Shut the fuck up guys everything is going to be fine the fire fighters are here and they are putting out the fire at this very minute so please do not fill all our heads with more worrying situations than there already are!” Stan said irritably, Bill noticing his tight line of which was his mouth. Bill turned to Whitemore, watching as deep red, almost purple flames lashed dangerously as water flooded the rooms.

“Bill come on we are nearly there!” Bev shouted, Bill hadn’t noticed he’d even let go of her hand. He sped up to the rest of them, really wishing he’d tried in cross country if he knew something like running to the other end of the field was gonna happen.

Once they were there, they all huddled together. Bill never took his eye off the fire. Nothing seemed to be dousing down the fire. Water only seemed to make it angrier and flare further. He heard windows smash, assuming it was the one Richie had climbed out just moments ago, and saw fully glowing window panes crash down onto the grass.

“H-h-has eh-anyb-body heard anything a-a-about Richie?” Bill asked, trying probably too hard to calm his heart rate down.

“Not since he was taken away five minutes ago, no.” Bev replied, rubbing Eddie’s back in attempt to calm him down a little. But how could anyone calm down in a situation like this? What was the point of even trying? Watching a school of which Bill could call his home so quickly, light up in flames. Bill could’ve laughed at the irony. But even if he wanted to laugh, Bill didn’t think his body would physically enable him to. He just felt... stuck.

“He’s with Matron. He’ll be fine.” Mike nodded in assurance. Bill nodded too, but not so much to Mike, more-so to himself. Of course Richie would’ve fine. It’s Richie Tozier. You couldn’t get rid of him even if you wanted to. Bill then let a smile curl around his lips.

Just when Bill thought things had took a turn for the worse and Whitemore was going to completely crash down into the abyss of ashes and death, he saw that the third time they sprayed water at the building, it actually started working. Flames started to die out by the minute and sooner or later pretty much all of the fire had been put out. All that was left was a few glowing windows (from the ones which were left) and firemen pulled a thumbs up to show everything was going to be ok.

Everything was going to be ok.

The firefighters made there way over and started handing out sleeping bags to every single one of them. Bill sighed sadly as he quickly realised the consequences of the fire. There was a high chance all there belongings would be burnt to an absolute crisp and even if they wanted to go back inside Whitemore, they’d probably lose consciousness pretty quickly. Just as Richie had.

About half an hour later the firemen had left and almost the whole field was covered with sleeping bags laid out on the grass.

“At least it isn’t winter.” Mike shrugged as he tucked himself into his sleeping bag beside Bill.

“May as well be,” Eddie shivered while trying to unroll his sleeping bag onto the grass. “It’s cold as shit out here.”

“Wanna know why that is, Eds?” Richie’s voice made them all jump and turn around in unison. “Because you’re wearing booty shorts.”

“Richie!” They all rushed up and knocked him over and piled on top of him.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again you trash mouth.” Stan said sternly as they all got off him and handed him a sleeping bag.

“Jesus you sound like my dad.” Richie grinned widely at them all.

“Christ Rich you’re covered in ash, and is that blood on your forehead?” Bev inspected him wildly.

“Eh it’s nothing, this is gonna sound super corny and if anyone calls me out on it i’ll say the smoke got to my head but, I’m just glad you’re all ok.”

“We are too Richie.” Ben smiled at him.

Bill sighed. “G-g-guys?”

“If you tell us that some other place is on fire, I think I actually might cry.” Mike said honestly.

Bill shook his head. “N-no, I was j-j-just gonna say, c-c-can we end all th-this ignoring eachother sh-shit? Listen Eddie, Richie w-w-wasn’t the one h-h-who told Luke you w-were g-g-guh-gay, it w-was south and w-west.”

“I swear to god I’m gonna drop kick those asses to the sun.” Eddie said after contemplating Bill’s explanation for a few moments.

“Everybody to sleep now!” Mrs Wilson shouted through the megaphone. Everybody got into their sleeping bags, but Bill could barely even think about sleeping. Every time he shut his eyes, all he saw was angry flames breaching from the darkness.

“Eds?” Richie whispered to his ‘bed’, facing away from any teachers so he wouldn’t be heard.

“Yeah?” Eddie replied sleepily. Bill turned away, feeling maybe this was a conversation he didn’t need to listen to, not that he could help hearing it though.

“I’m just...” Richie sighed. “I just wanna apologise.”

“For what? You weren’t the one who told Luke.” Eddie said.

“Yeah but, I’m the reason Luke is messing with you, and all of us.” Richie shuffled. Bill winced.

“You couldn’t have known he was gonna transfer here.” Bill heard more shuffling so he turned around subtly to see what was going on. Eddie had his hand on Richie’s arm.

“Mm.” Richie hummed, still clearly blaming himself for every little problem.

“But I accept your apology. I just, really missed you.” Eddie whispered quietly, more softly.

“Me too.” Richie barely spoke, it’s could’ve just been his breathing wavering slightly.

Bill let his eyes shut, ignoring the raging flames and smiled to himself. Maybe there was hope for the losers club. Maybe in a not too distant future they’ll all be talking and playing in the sun again.

Bill just couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gosh these kids sure have a crazy school life am i right


	24. Good Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Mentions of fire~

**Stan Uris, outside Whitemore in his sleeping bag**  
The event of last night, to Stan, seemed very much like something out of a fiction book.

Schools don’t just burn down. And if they did, certainly not everyone would of made it out alive.

But that’s exactly what had happened.

Stan’s memory of what had happened was foggy still. He remembered Bev yelling at him, and then running from the room. He remembered feeling scared, so scared that it too everything in him not to give up and run. He remembered waking everyone and leading them out of the school. And then Richie.

He couldn’t remember who’d seen him first, but suddenly Richie Tozier was trapped in the sick bay. After Mrs Henderson read out his name and Richie hadn’t replied, the losers went around the grounds searching for him. And then he was found. Just not in a place he was suppose to be.

But he was alright. Matron and seen to him after he fainted and he seemed okay when he’d come over to the Losers that night.

No one had really got much sleep at all. Almost everyone stayed up to discuss the event that had happened, and who had seen what. The Losers gave up on the idea of sleeping pretty early on, and stayed up till early morning listening to Richie and Bev tell them what had happened.

It was early morning when Stan finally fell asleep, and he’d only been asleep for a few hours before he was woken again.

“Stan, Stan, get up!” Eddie Kaspbrak was shaking him awake, an excited smile of his face.

Stan sat up, rubbing his eyes. Sleeping on the ground was by no means comfortable, and his back felt sore. But at least he was alive, instead of... well, instead of dead.

“What’s the time?” Stan asked, stumbling out of his sleeping bag.

“Well, Richie says it’s eight so it’s probably half nine or something.” Eddie said happily. Stan noted how odd it was, that a fire had broke out and that was what had pulled Eddie back to the Losers Club. It should of been sad, and it was still, but it was hard to feel down when the Losers were all talking again.

“You know, when I first woke up I thought I’d dreamt everything. Funny, right? Like, I’m laying in a sleeping bag and my first thought it that it had to of been a dream. But what reminded me that it was real, apart from the smell of smoke obviously, is seeing Richie’s face in the bag next to mine. Like, out of everything that happened last night, that’s the most important. Do you see what I’m saying? It’s like-“

Eddie continued to ramble and Stan half listened as he packed his sleeping bag up. Everyone was still in their pyjamas and probably would be until the school could provide them with clothes. But now that the danger was gone, everything felt sort of exciting. Lessons would be off, everybody was dressing in their night clothes. The only part Stan didn’t like was how any sense of order was gone, but that was to be expected. No one had anticipated the fire, and the teachers were coping best they could.

Soon, everyone was up and Mrs Wilson called an meeting. Students surrounded her as she stood on the steps leading to the doors of Whitemore, listening earnestly.

“As you’re well aware, late last night a fire broke out in the sick bay.” She said, voice strong and carrying across the field. “Fortunately, the fire service were excellent and were able to put it out, as well as making sure all you are safe. Them and a number of other services have visited us in the time being and I’m happy to say that any toxic smokes or fumes have been cleared from the school.”

A small cheer went up and Mrs Wilson smiled before continuing.

“They also told us that there is currently no risk of the school caving in as result of the fire. Obviously there are still risks but they seem minor. Me and other members of staff have only been inside a few times, to see for ourselves how bad it is. The Sick Bay is completely burnt and we will be working on getting it back to its regular state as soon as possible. As for other damages, we seem to be in luck. The walls outside the Sick Bay are badly charred, and the carpet is burnt, but apart from that everything seems to be in fit state. There will be checks later, when we can fully check nothing else as been damaged.

“Now, where to go from here. Because the damage isn’t grave, we should be back and running within a week or so. However, other things must be carried out. We will have services here all day to make sure everything is safe and to see what we have to do to re build the sick bay. I always want all of you to stay out of the second floor upwards for now, until we’re absolutely certain there aren’t any risks. Top Years, if the fire has indeed delayed your work, then end of year tests will be pushed back. No lessons will be carried out today and I must insist you listen to the teachers directions. Thank you.”

Another cheer when up and Stan felt slightly reassured. Things would go back to normal soon, and the teachers had everything under control. He could let himself enjoy the off-timetable day now, instead of stressing over what could happen.

Matron was still seeing to people who were ill in some way and Eddie went to top up his aspirator, to be told he couldn’t do so due to inconsistent medicine. People were packing up sleeping bags and teachers were collecting them for the firefighters to collect later that day. Then, around ten, the cooks brought out bread for people to eat. In all the mess and confusion, Stan had forgotten about breakfast.

“You think they’d bring us something better than this.” Ben said, pulling his slice of bread apart.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Who the hell eats a whole loaf of bread by itself?”

“Gee Eds, think you should be a little more thankful you weren’t burnt by a fire?” Richie asked. Eddie hit his shoulder but he was smiling.

The Losers were all sitting in a circle outside Whitemore. There were groups of people finishing off their limited food and teachers were hurrying around.

Richie was acting like his usual self again, but Stan knew they had to talk about what had happened. Bill had given a very watered down explanation last night that had satisfied them enough but Stan thought it was a bad idea to just leave it at that. What Luke had done to the seven of them wasn’t something they could ignore easily. It had completely ripped their worlds apart and they all needed to think of something.

“Guys, do you think we should discuss the current situation?” Stan asked.

“Yes.” Bev said. “I still have questions that need answered, and we all deserve full explanations.”

“We could talk to West and South too.” Ben suggested.

“Luh-luh-later.” Bill said. “Let me eh-eh-enjoy this mu-moment of no d-d-drama.”

Mike chucked the last bit of his bread at Bill’s head. Bill flipped him off.

“That’s a waste of good food!” Ben said.

“You w-were just cu-cu-complaining about i-it!” Bill laughed.

“Oh, go suck your mum.” Ben grumbled.

And it was a weird thing, a weird moment, but Stan felt that warm glow in him again.

Because, as long as he had the Losers, things would turn out fine.

 

 **Eddie Kaspbrak, In a empty Art classroom**  
Mrs Wilson had let everybody back into Whitemore around twelve, with strict rules to stay in dormitories and common rooms. The head girl and boy were making sure no one disobeyed these rules and Mrs Henderson had assured North that there’d be trouble if they didn’t listen.

So, naturally, the Losers left their dorms first chance they got and headed to an empty art classroom to talk.

It was sunny outside, and light poured into the classroom. Bill pushed open the door and led them in, heading over to the back.

“If we get caught then I’m escaping through the window.” Stan said.

Eddie laughed and hoisted himself up onto the table. Bev got up next to him and squeezed his hand, offering him and gentle smile. Ever since Luke had said what he had said in the hall a few days ago, Bev had gone to no ends to make sure Eddie was all right. It made him think back to train, right back in September. He’d only known Bev as ‘The Slut’ then, yet she’d been kind and enduring to him. If he could of known how amazing Bev was when he bumped into her on the carriage then maybe Eddie would of said something different. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t have. He was scared shitless, and Bev was too. Maybe that’s what drew them closer together.

Whatever it was, it had lasted. Even when Eddie didn’t know how he could go on, Bev had been there for him. And she was the first person he came out to. She deserves the world, Eddie thought. She probably doesn’t hear that much, but it’s true. I’ll tell her someday.

But it wasn’t just Bev. All the Losers had tried to check in on Eddie, who had shut himself away in a box. They all wanted to make sure he was coping well and wasn’t too upset. Which obviously, he was. For as long as he’d lived, he thought being gay was something so wrong. He’d grown up to hate himself, to believe that there was something horribly horribly wrong with him. Standing up to his Mother lit something in him, a certain fire he didn’t know he had. How many lies were embedded in his life? And moving to Whitemore, finding actual friends, gave him something he never had: confidence. Enough of it that he could finally accept who he was. But he was still scared to come out to the six people he loved most in the world. And he certainly didn’t want to come out to the whole school. But Luke had enforced that old hate. Everyone knew. Everyone knew and Eddie could do nothing about it. That trust that had grown around Whitemore was ripped away and Eddie felt that there would never be a place for him.

And Richie. He’d trusted Richie so, so much. More than anyone in his whole life. And for it to be Richie who turned on him... it was all so horrible.

Eddie regretted running out of the hall now. He’d believed Luke so quickly that he didn’t even think he could of been lying. He supposed his Mother was the reason for that. Everyone Eddie trusted turned out to just be using him.

But he had acted harshly, and if what Bill had said was true, Richie was as much as a victim as he was.

“Okay.” Mike said, swinging his legs over Stan’s lap so he’s half sitting half laying on the table. “Where do we start?”

“We start” Stan said, removing Mike’s legs. “by respecting Stan’s personal space.”

“Ah, don’t be a kill joy!” Richie said. “We all know how much you love being touched-“

“Beep beep Richie.” Stan said, with a small smile on his face. Eddie felt something enter his body: things were going to be all right.

“Lu-lu-let’s start f-f-from t-the start.” Bill said. His back was straight unlike eddie and Eddie thinks he looks alert even now. Maybe it was the shock from the fire. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.

“Okay.” Mike nods. “So we were all in the canteen, minding our own business, when Luke bitch ass whore face-“

Eddie choked on his laugh. He wasn’t expecting Mike to say it as seriously as he did. Ben and Bev laugh and Stan tries to hide his. Only Richie doesn’t react, looking almost shyly around at the six of them.

Mike looks around somewhat amused, then continues;

“So, what was I saying? Ah yes, this asshole comes up to us and starts talking like he’s on some broadway show. Acting like he’s not got a face of a horse. Anyway, through the amount of shit that comes out of his mouth, he managed to say that Richie and him had been friends at their old school and Richie was working as a double agent this whole time. Then, he outed Eddie. That’s where we stand.”

There was a short pause after Mike finished.

“Wow.” Ben said. “I never realised how uh... drastic out lives were.”

“And to think, I thought Whitemore would be boring.” Stan said.

“Oh-oh-okay.” Bill said, pulling his legs up against his chest. “Richie, how well did you know Luke?”

Richie sighed and sat up straight. “You may as well know the whole story now. I only told Bill before because I just wanted to forget about it. But you deserve to know, especially now.

“The old school I went to was your usual type I guess. Shitty classmates, lots of stereotypes, you know it. I mean, it wasn’t as bad as some of yours sounded. Actually, the school itself was pretty nice. And the teachers weren’t half bad. But... I don’t know. I guess I’ve always had trouble being myself, you know? I bottle all my feelings up and hide my emotions because I don’t think I deserve to feel them. So when I was at school, I never really felt like me. That wasn’t too much of a problem to start with. I hadn’t got any real friend friends but there were a few people I talked to well enough. But then everyone went up a year.

“You could almost feel the shift in things. Now we were higher up in school, we thought we had more power. We were more used to the school. That’s when the bullying started. It wasn’t much at first, just the tough kids shoving people in the hallway and stuff. But then a group of them seemed to target me. I don’t know why, maybe because I seemed an easy target or maybe because I never showed how I actually felt, but they were constantly making fun of me. I couldn’t go anywhere without being shoved and things from my pencil case kept disappearing. But that didn’t even really bother me. I was pretty fine with it, until they got more...more personal, I guess.

“Once day, I came into school and someone had written ‘Trashmouth’ across my locker in marker. And the thing is, I knew I was a trashmouth, but I’d never really cared before. Except now, everyone was laughing at me because of it. And it was harder to laugh along with them. I knew who had done it, of course. They didn’t even try to hide it. There was a group of four or five of them, Luke included. They were pretty popular, but that was mostly because people were scared of them. And along with the fear came admiration.”

“I didn’t realise you had it so bad.” Bev said, looking at Richie sadly.

“You all had it bad in some way.” Richie shrugged. “Besides, what I did after was much worse.”

“You don’t have to go on.” Eddie said. “If you uh, feel uncomfortable or something.”

“I’ll go on.” Richie said, and gave him a small smile. “Well, after the locker thing, it started to get worse.

“They’d write on my desks and once Luke pretended to trip over leg while he was holding a food try. I just felt so humiliated. Like, everyone was focusing down on me and laughing at me and the whole problem, in my eyes, was me. And I hated it. So I did something Richie would do; I tried to not be Richie.

“I decided that I’d try and change so they wouldn’t target me anymore. Stop with my trashmouth and close up into myself more. It was pretty easy, actually. It’s usually easy, not being myself. But they didn’t stop. And I just felt worse and worse and worse. So, I put on a character and befriended them.

“It wasn’t actually that hard. They picked me up pretty soon and before you knew it, I was tagging along as they pushed kids in the hallway. I wasn’t Richie though. I was someone else. I tried not to care about other people and I was loud, but loud in a bad way. In less than two months, me and Luke were firm friends. Why? Because I was scared. Scared of them and scared of myself. I never wrote on lockers or anything but I was bad. Hell, I was an asshole. And after a while, I really did stop caring. That’s when my parents pulled me out.

“I guess my behaviour was affecting them too, though I didn’t realise it. They said they were sending me away to their old boarding school and that it was what was best for me and all that. At first I was pissed, obviously. But then I started to accept that I was in the wrong. And maybe the best thing for me to do would be to actually try. Try to be myself.

“I hadn’t heard from Luke after I left school. I met him once, over summer, but I was so painfully aware of what I had become that I didn’t see him again. I cut off all communication. And I was so shocked when I saw him at Whitemore, I guess I pulled myself in a little bit. So yes, it is my fault Luke chose to make all your lives miserable and I’m so, so sorry. I could of never of guessed a year ago that I would have people like you in my life. But I do, and I’ll do anything to make sure you guys are happy. Okay?”

“You should of told us.” Mike said softly once Richie was done.

“I didn’t think it mattered.” Richie said.

Eddie’s heart felt heavy. He wished he knew sooner. To think, all this time Richie was hiding something like that. Eddie knew what it felt like, to hate yourself. There was no right way to cop with it. You were just always distantly aware of how you looked and how you moved and you just... detested it. To know Richie went through that, alone, make Eddie’s heart break.

“You’re amazing, Rich.” He said. “I don’t care what Luke said, or anyone else. We’re your actual friends and we love you. Okay?”

Richie smiled a very watery smile and Bev leaned over and hugged him.

“Eddie’s right.” Stan said. “Fuck whoever says otherwise. Richie, you drive me round the bend and back but I love you. We all do. And nothing would be the same without you here. We just never knew what your old school was like.”

“Like I said, I bottle things up.” Richie said.

“Wuh-wuh-well, we’ve eu-eu-established that Lu-lu-lu-luke is a pu-piece of shit.” Bill said. “But wu-wu-why did Wu-wu-west and Sh-sh-south wait f-for Luke to uh-uh-out Eu-eu-eu-eu-eu-“

“Eddie.” Stan finished for him. “I’m not sure. They heard him come out but agreed not to use it.”

“Because they didn’t.” Mike said. “James, Anne and Thomas found me because they wanted to explain what had happened. Apparently, they did hear Eddie coming out but all of them agreed it would of been way out of line to use it. But Thomas accidentally let slip about it in front of Luke, so that’s how he knew. West and South and little to do with it.”

“West and South being decent.” Richie said. “Who knew?”

“Maybe we took the whole thing a bit far.” Mike said.

“You don’t say.” Ben said. “God, remember when it happened? We just thought it would be like, water balloons and whoopie cushions. But we got carried away with the idea, a little. This is our fault too, I think.

“Do you remember when that glue got tipped on Greta’s hair?” Bev giggled.

“Yes!” Mike cried. “And the four of you got to miss English! And spend the rest of the day in your p.e kits! I had never laughed so hard!”

“I hated it to start with.” Stan said. “But after a while, I was actually enjoying it. Odd, right? I don’t know, maybe I was finally getting use to Whitemore.”

“Oh gosh.” Bev said, hand clamped over her mouth now to try and stop her giggles. “We were so young!”

“It was six months ago!” Richie laughed.

“And Halloween!” Eddie said. “Do you remember that? We made West and South’s common room seem haunted!”

“Oh, yes!” Ben said. “I came up with the idea and I was so nervous to tell everyone! Shit, we were so small!”

“And me and Bu-bu-bev got s-shot with their wu-wu-water guns!” Bill said through laughter.

Bev was practically falling off the table by now, her laughing uncontrollable. Stan was wiping tears from his eyes and Mike hand gripping Stan’s shoulder in an attempt to support himself.

“Oh, I missed you guys.” Eddie said, grinning. “I really mean that. I know it was my fault, for locking myself away, but I felt so broken without you all.”

“Wu-wu-we missed you tu-tu-too, Eu-eu-eu-Eddie.” Bill said, smiling at him.

“And to think, I was going to move away from Whitemore.” Richie said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t of survived a day without my Losers.”

“Here here!” Ben cried, then burst into laughter again.

“So what now?” Stan asked once they’d all calmed down. Eddie considered his question.

He still didn’t want to face everyone, of course. With the thing he had tried to hid forever now known to everyone, it was scary. But for the losers, Eddie thinks he can be brave.

“Nothing.” Eddie said. “We’ll act like nothing’s happened in terms of what Luke did. That’s what he wants, right? A reaction. Well, I’m certainly not going to give one to him.”

“But what about him outing you?” Richie said. “What if people use it against you?”

Eddie sighed and swung his legs. “My whole life I thought it was something bad. I’m not going to think that way again. If people do hate me for it then they hate me for it. I still have you guys.”

“You’ll always have us, Eddie.” Mike said, giving him a honest smile.

“And I need to apologise.” Eddie said. “Richie, I believed Luke without hearing a word from you. I’m sorry.”

“You were in shock.” Richie said. “To of expected you to act rationally would of been horrid of me.”

“Yes, but I still shouldn’t have taken his word.” Eddie said. “My mother lied to me about everything. Coming to Whitemore was so strange because I was questioning everything I knew. But finding all of you.” Eddie looked around at them. “I trusted you. I didn’t even think twice about it. So when Luke did what he did, I guess I just remembered the betrayal from my mum. I’m so, so sorry Rich. I should of never left you.”

Richie smiled and it looked so open Eddie couldn’t help but smile too.

“It’s cool, spaghetti.” Richie said, reaching over to hold Eddie’s hand. “I forgive you.”

Eddie smiled and Bev, from her laying down position, laughed too.

“Marsh, all the bloods gonna go to your brain if you stay like that.” Mike said. Bev was laying in the middle of Bill and Mike and her head was upside down, handing slightly of the desk.

“Better get her up then.” Richie said, and made a grab for her shoulders.

“No!” Bev squealed, trying to sit up. “Richie-!”

Bill laughed and tried to help Bev up, but only succeeded in getting a accidentally hit from Richie.

“Ow!” Bill said, then launched at Richie.

Bev was doing all she could to not fall off the table at that point and as Eddie watched them, smiling slightly, he thought how perfectly the seven of them fitted together.

They really were the only friends he’d ever need.

 

**Beverly Marsh, looking around near the sick bay**

“Jesus the amount of ashes below this window is actually scary.” Richie kicked at the ashes, his shoe quickly darkening in colour.

“Woah, woah w-w-woah, Is th-th-that Richie in th-th-there? D-d-did you k-kid-k-kidnap Richie?” Bill rapped on Richie’s head while making a hollow knocking sound. Richie swatted at his hands.

Of course it was scary. The whole scene of Whitemore was a fright. It’s black, destroyed walls on one side and on the other it’s like it had only witnessed a little lighter that lit whenever Bev ignited one of her, or multiple, cigarettes. She could barely bare to look at it properly. The place where she had so quickly grew to love and call her home had just sort of...perished.

But they would fix it, somehow. Only some of the walls had burnt badly so surely that’s just like a quarter of the money of how much somebody payed for this school in the first place. Beverly winced at the thought of how much it could cost.

What happens now though? Do they go home or everybody sleep on one half of the school? And what about the canteen and food and- And the sick bay! Where do people go if they’re sick? Home? The pharmacist? Probably not the pharmacist, that would most likely cost more than the whole school if every single student went there-

“Guys?” Stan said. Bev looked up and met his eyes that were washed with confusion and wonder. “Who actually started the fire?”

There it is. The million dollar question in which hasn’t been asked until now but has been carving at everybody’s minds since they fell asleep in their hard, cold sleeping bags. Bev just couldnt think how it could’ve started in the sick bay. She would’ve understood the kitchen or some place like that but the sick bay? It has a fire place but the school looks as if it’s been standing with no fires or troubles for about one thousand years, meaning they can’t have had any problems with it before...

She just, didn’t know.

“Maybe there was some wind and it flew down the fire place of the sick bay and and budged some very dry wood which started a fire which grew out to control somehow?” Mike said thoughtfully, trying to pull any sort of logic into this.

“Yeah I don’t think that happened.” Eddie picked at his nails, attempting to get old burnt, probably some bed sheet, ashes out of beneath them.

“Well it’s more than anything you guys have come up with.” Mike shrugged indignantly.

Suddenly an ear piercing alarm went off, making them all jump in surprise and knocked Richie from his squat head first into the ashes.

“Dumb shit.” Eddie huffed a laugh between shortening breaths as he tugged Richie out of dust and handed him a handkerchief.

“If that’s another fire alarm I might just hop on any old train and it can take me anywhere it likes.” Bev almost groaned before being cut of by a loud speaker booming Mrs Wilson’s voice into the open.

“Assembly meeting in the hall, I repeat, emergency assembly in the hall. Please report there as soon as possible.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ben looked around to the losers.

“That there is an assembly meeting in the hall in approximately two minutes.” Stan started to walk away from the wall he’d previously just been scanning.

“Yeah couldn’t have guessed that one.” Ben replied sarcastically. Stan held his hands up in defence. “I mean why could there suddenly be this emergency assembly?”

“Oh I don’t know. It can’t have anything to do with the fact there was this massive fire that could’ve killed everybody in there sleep if it wasn’t for m-“

“Guys give him a break.” Bev shook her head, failing to hide her increasing laughter that grew inside of her.

They all trudged along to the hall, tagging along with a few from east tower.

“What do you think this is about then?” Greta asked. Bev couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not, so she didn’t say anything.

“I have absolutely zero clue of any subject this emergency assembly that is taking place only a few hours after a great big fire that put all our lives in danger, which we only just survived, is about.” Richie scratched his head in thought.

“Oh lay off me for a minute will you?” Greta groaned as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun.

“And where would the fun be in that?” He smirked.

“Up your ass, right where I’ve shoved it.”

“Bet that would feel ni-“

“Beep fucking Beep Richie.” Stan cut in, looking how everybody was feeling, repulsed.

The hall was bustling with anticipation of what was going to happen next. Chairs were being picked off piles and sat next to one another as students found their seats. Bev even saw a couple of teens trip over the chair legs and had to cover her laughter.

“You know, the idea is to sit on the seats buddy.” Mike chuckled as Richie almost completely toppled off his chair when he slumped down over dramatically.

Once everybody had settled down just enough so Mrs Wilson could get a word in edgeways, she started to speak. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve called this emergency assembly.” A mumble of agreement ripples through the hall. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know it’s not about anything bad or threatening. It’s actually some very good news.”

“Know what would be even better? If we could actually find out what she’s actually trying to get at.” Richie whispered, wheezing as Eddie wacked his side repeatedly.

“It’s a celebration assembly!” She announced cheerfully.

“For what? Living? Yay go life!” Ben fist pumped the air quietly.

“And an appreciation assembly. We are gathered here today,”

“Sounds l-l-like we’re a-a-at a w-wuh-w-wedding re-reception.” Bill whispered to Bev, making her chuckle.

“to thank the few students who pretty much saved us all from burning to death. And those pupils are: Richie Tozier,” An eruption of cheers and applause went up as Richie stood up proudly and waved like he was part of the royal family. All laughed and clapped harder, all apart from Luke. But Bev didn’t even want to think about Luke, let alone look at him. Luke’d done enough and he’d only joined their school just after Christmas. Bev even allowed her mind to wander into thinking Luke had started the fire.

She would not be surprised.

“Beverly,” Beverly could feel her cheeks heat up as she stood and stole a quick wave from the clapping crowd. She sat back down again and Bill planted a kiss onto her seeming-to-be-burning-now, cheeks. “Patty, Audra, Alison, Buffy, Emily, Chloe and Greta. You all did very well and I’m exceedingly happy with you all. You will be awarded, but for the time being, I’d like you to keep focused on helping clearing up.” With that, a weak bell went and she left the room and once again the hall was stocked up with chatter.

“Well, that wasn’t what I expected this assembly to be about.” Ben shouter over the other talking students while stacking up his chair.

“Well done Richie and Bev! Our heroes!” Mike put a hand over his heart and ‘wiped’ a tear that he acted like was rolling down his face. “No but seriously, you saved a lot of lives back there.”

Bev looked at Richie and smiled as he winked at. “We know.” She laughed.

They walked out the building and Bev stopped to look at Whitemore. But this time she didn’t just see destruction in all of it, she saw hope in it. It wouldn’t be like this forever, and only some of it was ashes. Things would look up for Whitemore. She knew it would.

Things would look up for all of them.

 

**Ben Hanscom, actually in the common room**

Ben could easily state this is one of the most exciting things that had ever happened to him in his life. Of course it wasn’t exciting at the time, but having to be woken up at x am in the night and having to try not to die while inhaling too much smoke and having to sleep in sleeping bags that might as well have not been there in the first place, made Ben feel like finally something interesting was happening in his boring old life.

He couldn’t exactly call it boring before though. Not with making his first actual friends who liked him (as sad as that sounds) and having the prank wars and skiving, Whitemore was just one massive adventure to him. And he enjoyed it. Loved it even. Because finally he isn’t worrying about what people think of him or what they say about him behind his back, because in reality it doesn’t matter. He has his friends who are ten times more worthy of even listening to and Ben knew in his heart of hearts that if anything happened to him, the losers would stand up for him. Well he hoped.

“Hey guys, should we go up to the sick bay and see what’s left of it?” Ben asked eagerly.

“We aren’t allowed up there, remember?” Bev replied, grabbing a pillow from the common room sofa and hugging it.

“Well Mrs Wilson said there aren’t any toxic gasses left or fire so we’d be safe.” Ben reasoned.

“W-w-What if w-we g-g-guh-g-get caught th-though?” Bill sighed as if the conversation was sucking out all energy that left in him.

“Since when were any of you guys worried about that?” Richie stood up and walked to where Ben and Eddie were sat and shoved himself in between them, ignoring Eddie’s complaints. “I say we go.”

“Haven’t you had enough of that place? You nearly died in there and you want to see it again?” Stan asked in disbelief.

“Eh I could only see flames, I wanna know what it actually looks like.” Richie shrugged. Stan shuddered but said no more.

“Bill’s right though, if we’re caught, we’re dead meat.” Eddie lifted his head from the couch arm. “Sorry Mike.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure Eds?” Richie nudged him playfully.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie replied as if he were a stuck record. Bev looked at him and saw something glint in her eyes. He smiled at it, probably too widely.

“So, who’s coming with me then?” Ben asked the losers.

“We’ll all come, won’t we guys?” Mike announced, purposefully not giving them any word space to say no. “And we should hurry, I heard all the teachers walk the other way from the sick bay just a few minutes ago, but they may return soon.”

“Well come on cheese bags, let’s get cracking.” Richie clapped loudly and stood up. “Was getting fucking boring in here anyway.” He muttered as he started to stroll out of the room over casually.

“Are my ears failing me, or did he just call us cheese bags?” Stan asked as the rest of them followed Richie out. “That’s a new one.”

“Are you genuinely surprised?” Ben raised his eyebrows, laughing slightly.

“I’m genuinely not.” Stan deadpanned.

They walked through the hall ways of English, then geography, then down some steps to art, then along more corridors of which consisted of many teachers bedrooms, then up what seemed like one hundred flights of steps to reach the door of West and South’s common room.

“Sick bay is up by West tower.” Mike pointed up some more stairs and Ben sighed. He watched Mike as he looked up, but he wasn’t really looking up the stairs, he was watching the memories of him going up there himself all those months ago. Mike said Matron had gave him a self esteem talk like she was some therapist. That made them all laugh and everything with all of them was good and fine again. Ben smiled himself as he too recalled the memories.

“Everybody glued to the floor or something? Come on let’s go.” Bev hurried them all along, snapping Ben out of his trance of memories.

He peeked around the corner one more time to check if any teachers were there, looked behind him as well, then followed the losers up the stairs.

“Holy—“

“Sh-sh-shit.” Bill finished Eddie’s sentence as he looked at the burnt down, black hallways that lead to the sick bay.

“To think I was just running through theses halls last night.” Richie almost whispered in disbelief and he started to make his way to, of what’s left of, the sick bay.

“I’m honestly surprised you aren’t dead, Rich.” Eddie shook his head, treading carefully through the yet more ashes.

“Me too.” He chuckled.

Ben walked straight into the sick bay and was taken back at how alienated it all looked. There was quite literally nothing left bar walls and floor. The beds were gone, wooden cabinets were just rubble, desks, chairs, medicine cabinets, they were just all... gone.

“Fuck.” Beverly whispered as she bent down by where the medicine cabinet used to be. “The medicine bottles, they’ve all shattered.”

“Careful Bev.” Bill urged to pull her back from the glass that could impale anybody if they weren’t steady with it. Ben’s hands twitched.

“Woah, look. at. this!” Mike searched through the burnt down files cabinet almost excitedly. “There are still some files that haven’t burnt down.”

“How in the holy hell-?” Stan walked over to Mike and took the couple of files that were held out from his hand.

“They m-m-m-must h-have been p-pruh-p-protected somehow w-when the c-c-cabinet first f-fell.” Bill looked at it thoughtfully.

“Jeez, did you take some pointers off Haystack or did you become smart all of a sudden?” Richie teased.

“Shut up Richie.” Bill threw some burnt wood at him, Richie just dodging it.

“Who’s files are they?” Bev continued the conversation at hand.

“Someone called Amy Cridle,” Stan swapped the sheets over. “And Rafael Greenwood.”

“Wait,” Richie said, eyebrows completely scrunched in thought and light confusion. “Hey Eds, Amy Cridle. Ring a bell?”

Eddie shook his head slowly. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’.

“Come on you must remember!” Richie shook his shoulders as if he had the power to shake memory into people just by the touch of his hands.

“Uh, no, nothing, no ringing.” Eddie still shook his head.

“The library! Remember when that girl helped us from Miss Park and you were really jealous of her.” Richie explained to him.

“You mean the one you were flirting with?” Ben saw the sudden realisation on Eddie’s face. Bev coughed.

“Yes! That was Amy Cridle remember!” Richie smiled as he too saw the realisation on his face.

“Oh wow.” Eddie chuckled.

“Turns out Rafael was born at a fate inside the back of a candy floss van.” Stan read and almost laughed. “Why the fuck would they add that to his file?”

“Maybe he’s allergic to candy floss?” Richie suggested, darkening his shoes furthermore by kicking all the ashes, sending the dust flying up in the air.

“Candy floss is just sugar, Richie.” Bev pointed out.

“Maybe he’s allergic to sugar?”

“Why- How-?” Stan squinted his eyes at Richie and just shook it off. “We should leave these on the surface the next time somebody comes up here.” He check them on the ashes sending yet another cloud of dust in the air. Ben coughed this time.

“Can you guys stop doing that.” He choked. Bev came over and patted him on the back and he smiled at her. Not just in appreciation.

“We should get going, somebody will be up here again soon.” Mike said after a few minutes.

“You know, my biggest question is; where is this school gonna get the money to fix this place?” Bev asked, trailing her finger along the wall as they headed back down the stairs.

“I have no idea.” Eddie replied cluelessly.

“How do they even get money the in the first place?” Mike said in addition of yet another question.

“I think it’s from when new kids come up to the school, which is unfortunate since it’s still sort of the middle term where no one will really join.” Ben guessed.

“Wonder if they’ll ask some top formers to try raise money to help.” Stan reasoned, flicking some of his curls out of his eyes.

“Hey,” Bev smirked in thought. “What if we do it without them even asking?”

“D-d-do wh-What?” Bill asked, looking through geography classrooms as they passed them.

“I fucked Eddie’s mum without askin-“

“Shut the actual fuck up Trashmouth.” Eddie cut off Richie’s unholy sentence.

“Raise some money, then we really will be teachers pet.” She smiled widely. Ben honestly thought her smile would kill him some day.

“Not the kind of image I want, but I can work with that.” Richie shrugged.

“How would we do it?” Stan asked her. Ben thought about it for a moment.

“Wait, Stan what what did Rafael’s file say again?” Ben thought back to what his file said about him.

“Born of the male species, has one foot slightly longer than the other-“

“No I don’t mean that, I mean what was that weird thing about when Richie went on about being allergic to sugar?”

“Oh you mean when he was born in the back of a candy floss van at a fair. That’s some weird shi-“

“Yes! That’s it! We can raise money by hosting a fair!” Ben said excitedly. They’d now reached the end of the English corridor and were close to the common room.

“I like where this is going.” Richie smirked.

“How would we do that?” Eddie asked.

“We’d figured it out somehow, we always do, that would definitely help raise money.” Ben barged open the common room door and as down on a chair.

“I th-think he’s o-onto some-s-something here.” Bill started to nod slowly.

Ben had absolutely no clue how this was gonna work but he was right, they’d always figure out something in the end. They were the Losers club. Together they could go against or for anything, and they’d ace it.

 

**Bill Denbrough, outside the Headmistress’s office**

“Mrs Wilson.” Richie grinned as she opened to door to Bill’s and Richie’s repeated knocking.

“Boys.” She replied gravely. Bill could clearly spot the worried lines around her mouth and the darkening eye bags. At this moment he really wished he and Richie hadn’t rapped on the door like it was an escape room so the zombie apocalypse wouldn’t get them or something.

“So, the sick bay. It’s clearly not going to be cheap to fix without a reasonable amount of money so-“

“What do you mean ‘clearly’?” She cut in, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Well—“

“He w-w-was in th-the sick b-buh-b-bay when it w-was up on f-flames.” Bill replied before he could say anything that would land them in their usual deep shit. “S-so h-he knows th-the kind of d-d-damage, r-right Richie?” He widened his eyes at Richie and he nodded.

Mrs Wilson nodded slowly and motioned at Richie to carry on speaking.

“We were wondering, since the sixth formers we’re doing some fund raising, we’d so a little find raising ourselves.” Richie took off his glasses and wiped the bulky magnifying glasses clean and placed them back on his face.

“And how would you go about doing that?” She questioned.

“W-well we s-saw that- thought! th-that we could d-do it w-with a fair.” Bill quickly corrected himself.

“A fair?” The headmistress scrunched her eyebrows.

“Precisely.” Richie leant his elbow on Bill’s shoulder.

“As I asked earlier, how would you go about doing that?” Mrs Wilson asked again calmly, but Bill felt like it was some subtle interrogation.

“W-Well...” Bill started, but then soon realised that their little fun raising plan had absolutely no plan whatsoever.

“Ah you see I will have to stop you right there,” Richie waved his finger at Mrs Wilson’s face and Bill really REALLY wanted to shove him off a cliff at that very moment. “It’s secret planning you see, and we cannot let anybody in on the secrets, for we fear they might steal them. All we need is consent from you to go into town and buy food and other things and have at least half of the playing field to ourselves and we’ll be on our way.”

Bill stared at Richie in disbelief as they ran down the hallway from Mrs Wilson’s office to their common room.

“W-Wait a minute.” Bill halted and stuck an arm out in front of Richie to stop him.

“Billiam.” Richie greeted as if he hadn’t just been in the same room as him for that past ten minutes.

“How th-the f-fuck did th-th-that just h-huh-happen?” Bill’s nose scrunched.

“Honestly, how Mrs Wilson is allowing us to do this is beyond me. She does know that I’m project manager right—“

“N-n-not th-that. I m-meant yes th-that’s pretty b-b-bewild-bewildering, but what ruh-really shocked me is; h-how did you n-not s-swear once d-during that wh-whole ass speech?” Bill chuckled in between joking and actually kind of confused. “W-Wait, project manager?!”

Richie laughed and bolted away from Bill, ignoring his shouts of: “Who th-the fuck in th-th-there right m-m-muh-mind would sign you a-as p-p-puh-pr-project manager?!”

“Here ye here ye!” Richie announced loudly as he patrolled through the common room door way. Bill saw half of the teens in there jump out of their skins.

“How’d it go?” Ben looked up from his calligraphy book Mike had gotten him not so long ago.

“Well...” Richie looked down at his shoes solemnly, raising his eyes to wink at Eddie’s direction. “Who wants to come to town with me and Billy Boy?”

A few cheers sounded and the losers started getting up. “Well, let’s go then?” Stan clapped.

“Wait right now?” Eddie asked.

“Why not? Haven’t got anything else to do other than sit in this stuffy common room.” Ben shrugged and followed Stan out of the door.

“Wait! Wait. We need money for this shit remember?” Richie said quickly and ran up to North tower, Bev to East’s, and chucked all their wallets to them. “Just hope we have enough fucking money.” He muttered as they bounced down the stairs, out of the building and down to the gate.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Luke yelled as he spotted Bill kicking the door open as if it were some slow motion badass movie scene. Without speaking to one another, they all simultaneously flipped him off, every single one of them, and strutted through the gate. Bill was suddenly greeted with happiness inside him as it happened. It’s like they all had the same mindset at that exact moment and he loved it. It felt like he belonged.

“Right ok,” They’d stopped bang in the middle of town. Mike looked around in circles. “Probably should’ve wrote a list of shit we needed.”

“One step ahead of you.” Ben smiled at him and whipped out his calligraphy book.

“You wr-wr-wrote it in th-there?” Bill asked in amusement. He was always amused by Ben with what ever idea he’d come up with next. It’s like his mind was just a constant working factory for new ideas that could be used in any situation. Bill thought if he ever took a trip into Ben’s brain, as weird as that sounds, he’d just see massive machines working to the dozen, never breaking down and in perfect condition.

“Couldn’t be bothered to get some paper from the cupboard.” He chuckled as he opened up the front cover.

“So what’s in there?” Eddie asked eagerly.

“Right so, I sorted it into categories of groups. Stan, Mike, and I will be getting decorations like bunting and that sort of stuff. Bill and Bev,” he cleared his throat slightly. “You’ll be getting music for it because otherwise people are gonna be able to hear their own criticising thoughts if music isn’t blasting into their eardrums. And Richie and Eddie you’ll be getting food. I advice sausage rolls or something like that. Party food.”

“Jesus how long have you been mapping that out, Haystack?” Richie asked, almost in disbelief.

“Twenty minutes.” He shrugged, shoving the back down into his back pocket. “Ok, let’s get on with it then.”

Bill took hold of Beverly’s hand and kissed her cheek lightly. “Let’s g-g-go.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the losers deserve to be protected at all costs thanks for attending our Ted Talk


	25. You Can’t Stop The Beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the losers plan the Fate   
> 

**Richie Tozier, waiting in Mrs Wilson’s office**

Richie had really fucked up. Like really, really fucked up. Of course he’d make a mess of things before, but it had never really affected anyone but himself. This time, it had. And for something he’d done at his old school, out of all the places.

And then the Fire. The Fire. It deserved a capital F. If Richie could fuck every other thing up, he had no idea how he’d saved someone from a burning room. He still didn’t know. The memory was dark and scary and Richie really didn’t want to think about it.

But he had. Even though he was scared shitless, he’d still saved Robert. He’d done something right in a very wrong situation. And that was something that seemed very impossible.

But he still wanted to help. The Sick Bay was completely destroyed and Richie knew he’d feel bad if he just sat around and did nothing. Whitemore had done so much for him.

So when Ben has suggested the fund raising idea, Richie put himself foreword as project manager. Or he’d elected himself with no word from the others. Whatever, he knew what he wanted and how to get it. Wasn’t that good enough?

So that’s why Richie Tozier was waiting in Mrs Wilson’s office a week after what would later be know as The Great Whitemore Fire, his hands drumming the table and his right leg bouncing.

Lessons were now back in full swing, but the Sick Bay had been completely bordered up. Matron was using a large classroom on the second floor for now, but everyone knew it couldn’t last forever.

The biggest question was how they were going to mange to raise the money. Richie hoped, or maybe prayed, that he could help. The seven of them had only planned so much though, and now Richie had to actually talk to the head he couldn’t help but feel like he should of covered more than he had.

They’d bought some music and decorations for the fate but apart from that, nothing else had really been done. Richie had an idea though. An idea, and if he could pull it off, it may make up for all the fuck ups he’d ever made.

“Richie Tozier.” A voice said curtly, and Mrs Wilson stepping inside her office.

“Hallo.” Richie said, the nerves in his body speeding up.

“Glad to see your on time.” Mrs Wilson said, sliding down into her seat opposite Richie.

She turned around and opened a window, letting in a much needed breeze. It was boiling outside, Winter finally kissing goodbye, and every student either had their blazer tied around their waist or had left it completely.

“Much better.” Mrs Wilson smiled, shuffling back around in her chair. “Right, let’s start.”

Richie sat on his hands in an attempt to stop them moving.

“This fate idea you came up with,” Mrs Wilson said. “sounds promising. But we have to go through some things before I can grant you permission to carry it through. Now, just go over the basics again.”

“Well,” Richie said, trying to keep as calm as he could. “me and my friends could organise a fate in the grounds of Whitemore. There’ll be sales and entertainment and all money raised will go towards re building Whitemore.”

Mrs Wilson raised her eyebrows. “You’ll have to do a lot more than that to convince me.”

Richie felt his face heat up. He had to get this speech perfect. There was no room to mess up, not with the whole fate idea on the line. And it was a brilliant idea, if Richie did think so himself.

“I had a few more thoughts.” Richie said, his voice wavering slightly. About the fate. But uh, I’m not sure how you’d feel about them. It kinda involves other students.”

“Tell me.” Mrs Wilson said.

And for someone who was spewing words out of his mouth 24/7, Richie didn’t know what to say. He did have an idea for that fate, that wasn’t a lie. But now Mrs Wilson was sitting directly in front of him, Richie found that he had no clue on how to act professional and serious. Maybe he never needed to. But for Whitemore, he wanted to do this. Needed to do this.

“Fourth years.” Richie finally managed to say. “Th-the fourth years.”

“What about the fourth years?” Mrs Wilson asked.

“Their two core subjects.” Richie said.

Part of the reason Whitemore was such a high up school was because of its subject choice and how much they did to help their students in what their dreams were. Or that’s what the pamphlet said, anyway.

But Richie didn’t know things outside of that, believe it or not. At the end of your third year at Whitemore, you had to pick two subjects to focus on. They mostly fell under the Arts category, and while you’d still have to take other subjects like Math and English, you did focus a lot of time on your chosen subjects.

For your Fourth and Fifth year at Whitemore, you’d take your two subjects and have end of school exams in them. Normally, students chose subjects that related somewhat to what they wanted to do after Whitemore. Richie knew that, unlike a lot of schools, there was a wide range of subject choice for students. He also knew that the school provided some of the best classrooms and equipment that you could ever need.

And it was also drawing close to the end of the school year, which meant end of year tests. He felt sure the Fourth and maybe even Fifth years wanted to practice. So why not put that practice into good use?

“I thought they could help out.” Richie said. “Hear me out-“

“I’m hearing you out, Richie.” Mrs Wilson said, smiling slightly.

“Oh yeah, uh sorry-.” Richie stammered, then plunged on, “Mike and Eddie thought they could put on a Fashion Show at the fate, right? So the main question there would be ‘well, how would that help earn money if we had to BUY all the clothes?’. Well, what if the Fourth Years taking design made clothes for the fashion show? And at the end, people could buy the outfits modelled. That way, we wouldn’t need to buy clothes and it would raise money!

“Also, Bill and Ben want to put a play on. So, why don’t they direct it and the Fourth Year Drama students act in it? And we could charge people to watch!” Richie was now jumping in his seat with excitement, talking rapidly, his old worries long forgotten. “And Bev and Stan said they could put on a bake sale there too, so there’ll be food for sale! And-“

“Richard!” Mrs Wilson said, using his full name for the first time that Richie had been in her office.

Richie stopped talking and lowered his hands which were, somehow, in the air.

“You have a great idea.” Mrs Wilson said. “And even better, I think it will work. Just go over the details again, but slowly.”

Richie did and Mrs Wilson nodded along, occasionally muttering something under her breath. Once Richie had finished, she opened her draw and dug around in it, finally pulling out a notebook. She ripped out a clean page and put it on her desk.

“Right.” She said, picking up a pen. “Let’s talk budget.”

“Budget?” Richie asked.

“Did you think Beverly and Stanley were just going to raid the nearest shop for ingredients?” Mrs Wilson asked seriously, but her eyes were crinkled at the sides. “Okay, cooking. Do you know what your friends plan to make.”

“Probably cakes and um.” Richie fell silent, thinking. As far as he knew, Bev and Stan had never actually cooked anything, and they hadn’t told him much either.

“and pastries?” Richie said uncertainty.

Mrs Wilson glanced up and gave a small sign. “Let’s give them a £100 budget for ingredients. They can use the food rooms and Kitchen to cook.”

Richie raises his eyes in genuine surprise. Through out all the planning, it had completely dropped from his mind that they’d need money to actually pull off any reasonable good fate.

“Fourth Formers who are doing design already have materials but that may not be enough.” Mrs Wilson continued, writing down on her paper. “Let’s say £100 as well.”

Richie nodded, hoping she didn’t notice how uncertain he seemed.

“The Drama departmet already has the supplies needed for a play so Bill and Ben probably won’t need money.” Mrs Wilson told Richie like he had any idea what was going on. “But if they do need extra support, they can always ask on of our Drama professors. Or me, for that matter. Just try and catch me when I haven’t just got out of bed this time.”

Richie grinned as he remembered Mrs Wilson coming up to him the night of the fire. Fuck, that seemed so long ago. In reality, it hadn’t been more than two weeks. Well it’s what they say, he supposed. Time flies when you’re having fun.

“Alright.” Mrs Wilson said, handing over the slip of paper that had their budgets neatly written down. “You can collect these from me when you need them but any left over money must absolutely be sent back.”

“Of course!” Richie said.

“Now, any ideas about when you want to hold this fate?” Mrs Wilson said.

“Yes! I thought of the perfect time!”

“Go on.”

“Well, half term is the first week of May, right? So that will be when everyone’s parents are visiting.” Richie said. “If we put it on then, we’d be sure to have a large turn out. And we could put sports tournaments on too, with students. And any money given will be used to help re build the school!”

“You really did think of everything.” Mrs Wilson said, and Richie didn’t mention that he’d totally forgotten about the budget. “Well Richie, it’s a smart idea. I’m happy to give you permission to go forth with this. But you and your seven friends won’t just be enough. I’d like all the first years to get on board.”

Richie almost groaned. “Even South and West?”

“Yes, even South and West.” Mrs Wilson said flatly. “This may be your idea but you’ll need help. Now, start straight away. Get someone to make posters, buy supplies, draw up the layouts. I have complete trust that you’ll be able to pull this off.”

Richie thanked her and stood up, something suddenly crossing his mind.

“Say, Mrs?”

“Yes?” Mrs Wilson said, looking at him.

“We’ll be awfully busy with all this work. You don’t think we’d be able to miss lessons to help, do you?” Richie tried to look as innocent as possible.

Mrs Wilson kept her face neutral but Richie noted that her eyes were bright. “We’ll see. Now, get busy with planning, you won’t be able to do much standing there.”

Richie thanked her again and walked over to the door as Mrs Wilson started to work on something else. Just as he reached the door, she called his name.

“Richie?”

“Yeah?” Richie asked, turning his head around.

“I forgot to ask, but what role will you be playing in this?”

Richie smiled. “I’m project Manager.”

 

**Mike Hanlon, outside with fellow Loser, Eddie Kaspbrak**

“Right.” Mike hummed as he and Eddie stared at their allocated space on the grass which they would use as a stage. “Let’s plan what we need to do.” He looked around the field and saw a clip board lying at the edge, half on the concrete. “Think they’d mind if I took some of their paper?”

“I highly, highly doubt it.” Eddie turned to the direction he saw Mike looking in and shrugged.

Mike looked around in suspicion and sped walked to where he’d spotted the paper clipped to the board and found a pen lying next to it. “Saved me a trip to the common room just to find a pen that doesn’t even work.” He muttered to himself. Mike took a sheet of the paper and the pen which he was surprised wasn’t melting in the heat of which was the April sun, and returned to Eddie.

“Ok so I have a couple of ideas.” He fiddled with the hem of his shorts.

“Do you purposefully buy shorts that are age 8-9 years old?” Mike breathed a laugh through his nose.

“No, actually, and I’d rather not melt in this heat thank you very much.” Eddie replied with purposeful attitude.

“Yes and I understand that but you were wearing them in winter, Eddie.” Mike smiled while writing down ‘Fashion Show Planning’ on the top of the piece paper. He didn’t need to look up without knowing Eddie was flipping him off but he heard his laughter.

“Anyway.” Eddie brought the conversation back on some sort of track. “My idea was that we have a stage somehow and obviously people will walk down the middle of it and we have rows of chairs on each side so people can get pretty good view of the models, and when they walk back they can go hide behind some of those fold up wardrobe thing, know what I mean?”

“Uh not really?” Mike scratched his head to get a grip of what Eddie was trying to explain to him.

“Come on you must know, it’s those sort of dresser things that stand up by themselves and you get dressed behind them and sometimes in movies you’d see the actresses throw a shirt or something over the top of them. Kind of like a changing room. What are they called?” Eddie shut his eyes really tight in thought.

Mike stood there for a moment, reaching out in the very corners of his brain for any resemblance of what Eddie was describing and suddenly it dawned on him. “Oh! You mean a folding screen, right?”

“Yes! So I was thinking they’d go behind them to get changed into their next outfit and-“

“And how are we supposed to get those?” Mike cut Eddie off, failing to see where they would possibly get anything moderately close to a folding screen.

“Well I’m pretty sure Bev was telling me about one that was in their dorm so we could just steal that and if we butter south tower up enough we could use theirs as well. Have one on each side of the stage.” Eddie nodded absentmindedly as he pointed to the empty field in front of them. Almost as if he were describing it like it was right there in front of him. Mike admired his vivid imagination.

“Hold on, woah.” Mike scrunched down his eyebrows and attempted to slow down Eddie. “How are we supposed to get a stage. And where from?”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet, but if worse comes to worse we’ll use cafeteria tables.” He answered. Mike chuckled and shook his head. “Anyway so for spotlights-“

“Spotlights?” Mike could’ve laughed in disbelief.

“You really need me to explain spotlights to you?”

“No, I mean how in the seven shades of fuck are we supposed get spotlights?” Mike asked.

“Well someone could stand on a ladder with a torch and-“

“Yeah no that’s just an accident waiting to happen. Besides it will be light anyway, it would be pointless.” Mike pointed out.

“Good point. Ok screw the spotlights, they’ll be glowing in a light like this anyway.” Eddie nodded again. “So that was my idea of the layout. Wanna offer anything to the table?” He sat down and patted the floor for Mike to sit down next to him.

“Sounds like you’ve got it all pretty much covered, Kaspbrak.” Mike smiled as he slumped down onto the grass and started to write down all Eddie’s ideas.

“Now for design.” Eddie rubbed his head. “Design design design. What kind of theme are we looking at here?”

“We could go for like a jungle theme?” Mike suggested out of no where.

“Well, random, but I like it. I was gonna suggest Forrest fire but I think that’s still a little too soon.” Eddie grinned and Mike snorted. After a minute of thinking Eddie suddenly sprang up from the grass. “Yes! And then they can wear leopard print and, faux, fur coats and we can have a back drop and we can get some fourth formers to draw a jungle scene and it would fit together so well and,” Eddie rambled on and Mike was struggling to scribble down words as quickly as he was saying them.

“How would we do the back drop? We literally only have grass for what seems like miles.” Mike got up slowly after him, sweating in the humid air.

“Uhh.” Eddie looked stumped for the first time that day. “Well, if they use a massive canvas and we prop it up with a few chairs then I think it could work.”

Mike started to write it down but stopped. “Hey, what if we don’t need a back drop?”

“Of course we need a back drop, otherwise it’ll look like some random people are strutting around with weird explorer hats on and leopard print dresses for no reason whatsoever.”

“Not necessarily, we can think outside of the box. If we...” Mike thought for a moment. “If we cut out some big bits of cardboard to make them look like trees and tape them to the folding screens so they arch over into the middle.” He started to write down everything and continued brainstorming. “And then we tape some leaf vines onto them so they hang down, therefore making a back drop.”

“Jesus Christ, Mike you’re a genius!” Eddie practically squealed. “So all we need to do now is go to the art department, find some fourth formers, and describe our outfit ideas.”

“Wait, what are our outfit ideas?” Mike finished writing his ‘outside the box back drop’.

“Well, jungle themed.”

“Yeah no shit but like... never mind we’ll just tell them it’s jungle themed and see what they come up with.” Mike shook his head. “Right, shall we go see the fourth formers?”

Eddie straightened out his shirt. “We shall.”

They walked into the building. It was actually cooler than outside, which didn’t really surprise him since it was like 1000000°C outside at that current moment, and made their way upstairs to go to the art department.

“These outfits better be good because if they aren’t I might just steal a sewing machine myself. Can’t be that hard.” Eddie said with a determined look on his face.

“The one thing I would absolutely pay to see right now is you on a sewing machine.” Mike laughed, scanning the art rooms for any fourth formers. “Oh look,” they stopped at the second from last door. “Some are in there.”

Without a second thought Eddie pushed the door open, ignoring Mike’s call of: “Wait we need to discuss what- well never mind.”

Mike walked in behind Eddie, not exactly because he was in any way frightened of the fourth formers, but because Eddie quite literally strutted into the the room in front of him without another word.

“Right so we need to ask for a favour.” Eddie said, staring down the fourth formers.

“That is, if you’re interested in a little gift in return.” Mike smiled at them. Whether it was genuine or not, they didn’t need to know that.

“What do you want, children?” A boy, who was currently fixing some thread to a sewing machine, asked.

“Children?” Eddie almost spat in rage. “I’ll have you know that i’ll be turning f—“

“Well,” Mike put a gentle hand on Eddie’s shoulder to calm his quickly flourishing temper. “we are holding a fund raising fate to help fix the sick bay, you see, and we are doing a little fashion show and were wondering if you could make a few outfits for it.”

“How many?” A girl with platinum braided hair asked.

“Oh uh.” Mike turned to Eddie who was busily eyeing up the boy in annoyance. “Eight? Four dresses and four two piece outfits?”

“What’s in it for us? You said there’d be a ‘little gift’ for us, so what is it.” The boy still didn’t look up from the thread.

“You may not be getting one at all if you keep up that attitude-“ Eddie lashed but Mike quickly coughed and covered up for him.

“Free cakes? From the bake sale that is also taking place might I add.” Mike suggested.

“What do you think, should we do it?” The girl turned to the boy and he looked up for the first time.

“Mmm, well I could use a little free cake every once in a while, but if I get food poisoning I’m suing all of you.” He pointed his scissors to Mike and Eddie. Mike involuntarily leaned back slightly.

“You’ll do it then?” Eddie asked, calming down a little now.

“If we do it Mrs Wilson might give us higher grades.” The girl said to the boy and shrugged. The boy nodded and turned back to the machine. “Ok, we’ll do it. What’s the theme?”

“Jungle themed. Can we have some leopard printed and zebra printed dresses and a faux fur coat and just stick some leaves or something to the model’s shoes.” Eddie informed.

“A coat? I don’t know if my sewing skill can reach that far.” The girl chuckled honestly, being shushed by the boy.

“Of course we can, Jess! Proceed.” He motioned at Eddie.

“Once we recruit our models,” Eddie said and Mike had to swallow a laugh for no apparent reason. He heard both Jess and the boy snort. “We shall send them to you so you can get their sizes.”

“Formal.” The boy smirked.

“And when’s our deadline?” Jess asked.

“May first. If that’s possible.” Mike said and she nodded.

“Sounds good. Send us these ‘models’ as soon as possible.” She smiled at Mike and turned back to her, what seems like, course work. Mike got a hint that that was an invitation to leave so he dragged Eddie out of the room with him.

“Well he was a dick.” Eddie said as they headed back down the stairs.

“Jess was nice though.” Mike smiled to himself.

Eddie raised his eyebrows but proceeded to talk about the show. “So, who are we recruiting?”

“Well Mrs Wilson said we have to include south and west so we could ask four of them and four of east tower?” Mike suggested, feeling the heat wave smack him in the face as they walked back outside.

“Yeah no we aren’t including those pricks.” Eddie shook his head vigorously.

“They aren’t all bad, let’s just get two girls and two boys.” Mike said calmly.

“Ok well you can get them, i’ll get a few from east, I don’t wanna talk to them.” Eddie insisted.

“Ok, I understand but you know it wasn’t them who outed you.” Mike smiled sadly.

“They’re the ones who told Luke in the first place. I don’t wanna talk to them. Like I said they want a reaction, I’m not gonna give them one.” He replied.

“Yeah I get that. Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Eddie looked up to Mike.

“For, you know, bringing up the whole outing thing again. I didn’t mean t-“

“Mike.” Eddie took a hold of Mike’s hand and smiled at him. “It’s ok, it’s behind us. Now, go get some of our models, we have a fashion show to organise!”

Mike chuckled and Eddie let go of his hand, turning the piece of paper in his direction to see what was written down. He smiled at Eddie. He was so strong, and everybody just thinks he’s weak or shy because he carries around an inhaler. And Mike’s glad he proves them wrong. Because really Eddie was one of the stronger members in the losers club. In fact everybody in the losers club is.

And that’s why Mike loved every single one of them.

 

 **Ben Hanscom, in a very stuffy Common Room**  
One thing Ben hated about the warm weather were the wasps. They just seemed to be everywhere. You couldn’t open a window without one flying in and buzzing around your head until it drove you completely insane.

When what seemed like the one hundredth wasp had flown into the common room that day, Ben stood up dramatically.

“I cannot stay here anymore.” He said. “I’m basically putting my life at risk.”

“You’re not going to die from one wasp sting.” Stan said from his position on the arm chair in the corner.

“No? I’ll have you know, I have very sensitive skin.” Ben said seriously. Bill snickered.

“If you don’t want to be harassed by wasps the shut the window.” Stan said.

“We’ll burn alive.” Eddie replied, who’s booty shorts were fitting the April weather perfectly.

Stan sighed and flipped the page in the cooking magazine him and Bev had found.

A loud wack! came from the side of the room the, and Ben turned to see Eric holding a comic book, trying to get rid of the wasp.

“I swear, wasps serve no purpose in everyday human life.” Eric said, trying to move the wasp towards the window.

“Thank you!” Ben said, throwing his hands out.

Another wack came from the window as Eric resorted to hitting the wasp with his comic.

“No, don’t do that!” Mike said, leaping up from the sofa and running towards the window to ensure the wasp got to live.

“I say, if you’re not doing anything, you could get started on your play!” Richie said from his seat.

Ben had to give Richie credit for how much care he was putting into the Fate. He’d never seen Richie so determined on anything before, and all of a sudden Richie was taking lead like he was born to. It was pretty admirable, actually.

“Cu-cu-come on th-then.” Bill said, all but rolling off the sofa to stand next to Ben.

It was Ben’s idea to do a play for the Fate. He thought that, since Mrs Wilson had told the Fourth formers to work with them, the Drama department could act in it. He also thought they could charge parents to see whatever they were putting on. Bill had wanted to work with him, and Ben thought that, for a job, it was going to be fun.

Ben and Bill left the common room to the sounds of Mike desperately trying to save the wasp and Beverly’s light snores as she slept on the settee, legs over Eddie and Richie’s laps.

“Any ideas on what show to put on?” Ben asked as Bill closed the door.

“Mu-mu-maybe s-star wars.” Bill replied sheepishly.

“Maybe.” Ben said, who was hoping for something much more meaningful to put on.

“We cu-cu-could do ah-a cu-cu-comedy.” Bill said as she swung himself around, onto the large staircase.

“Yeah!” Ben said. “Like what the second years put on for us!”

Bill nodded and they continued to talk over ideas as they made their way to the theatre area in the school. Ben pushed the door open and him and Bill slowly walked in.

There was a large stage at the end of the door, with deep red curtains swept back. Around the side we’re book cases, odd boxes, chairs and dresses, as well as other items littered around. It looked like happy chaos, something Ben loved deeply. The room radiated life and Ben stepped forward.

A fan was in the corner, cooling the room slightly, but the Fourth and occasionally Fifth former were wearing the bare minimal on what was called appropriate.

“Hey?” Ben said uncertainty, still near the door.

A girl with short bronze hair turned around. “You must be the First Formers here for the fate?”

“Yuh-yuh-yeah.” Bill said.

“Come in.” The girl said.

Ben and Bill walked across the hall to where the girl was standing. She motioned for everyone to come and about ten students grabbed chairs from around the room and made a circle.

“Get chairs too.” The girl said, and smiled. Ben’s worries of feeling out of place evaporated quickly at that, and he sat himself down, along with Bill.

“Right, first things first, my name is Alyssa, and I’m the head of Drama here.” The girl said to Ben and Bill. Ben wondered if maybe she was in her final year, instead of fourth.

“They the fund raising people?” A boy sitting backwards on his chair asked.

Alyssa nodded and spoke now to the Fourth formers. “So, as you know, the Sick Bay burnt down-“

“Reeeeally?” Someone said from the circle. A few people laughed and Alyssa put on her best this-is-no-laughing-matter face, but her eyes were sparkling.

“The fifth formers would have ordinarily done fund raises, and they’re doing some, but they obviously have their end of year exams coming up so they can’t do as much. So, Mrs Wilson handed the responsibility down to the First years.”

Alyssa waited, like she expected an outbreak of talk. It crossed Ben’s mind that maybe people wanted to do the fund raise who weren’t in first year. But he supposed everyone would end up helping out. It’s like someone once said, it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey. At least, Ben thinks that’s what they said.

“Righty.” Alyssa continued. “Mrs Wilson has also asked all Fourth formers to help if they are asked. This Fate will have different things so everyone will be of good use. As for us, these two gentlemen,” She gestured with both her hands. “want our help in putting on a play.”

There was some nodding and cries of ‘yeah!’ as Alyssa finished. She smiled at Ben and Bill.

“So boys, what ideas do you have.”

“Uhhh” Ben said at the same time Bill went. “N-n-not many.”

“Do you have a play in mind?” A girl with big white-yellow hair and a nose ring (which Ben was absolutely appalled at) asked.

“We th-th-thought we cu-could do a cu-cu-comedy?” Bill said. “O-o-of a th-th-thriller.”

“Sounds good.” Alyssa said, slapping her hands on her knees in a very forceful manner. “Well, you can come here any time if you want to ask questions. I take it Mrs Wilson has scheduled practice already.”

“A bit.” Ben said, you knew, so far, they weren’t missing any lessons.

“Say, what’s both your names?” A boy with curly brown hair asked.

“Shoot!” Alyssa said. “I forgot to ask! Oh shit, I am sorry, I guess I get carried away.

“I-it’s fine.” Bill said. “I’m Bu-bu-bu-bu-bill. And th-this-“

“Is Ben.” Ben said, finishing Bill’s sentence so perfectly it felt like they were on one of those badass blockbusters.

Alyssa smiled meekly. “Right, we have this time now. Angel and Harvey can take you to look at the plays we already have, and you can see if there’s anything you like from there. Then, we can start writing the script and casting.”

Ben nodded, as the girl with the nose ring and a boy with floppy, ink coloured hair stood up and led Ben and Bill to the looming bookcase.

“This will be ace.” Angel said, skipping along. “We haven’t gotten to perform anything that wasn’t shakespeare in for-ev-er!”

“Shakespeare’s not so bad.” Ben said, thinking about the plays he’d read. Ben quite liked the poetic feel about them, how each sentence was well thought through.

“Just try to memorise a monologue in old english, then it is hard!” Angel said.

They reached the book case.

“How about we perform .” Harvey said, reaching up to the top shelf. “Sex and Lust.”

“Harvey!” Angel cried, smacking his arm without much gusto. “They’re first formers!”

“Wu-wu-we’ve seen i-it all.” Bill said, smirking.

“See!” Harvey said, giving Angel a large shrug. “Kids seen it all.”

“Bill’s seen it all.” Angel corrected, managing to swipe the book out of his hand. “Honestly Harvey, you’ve got to use people’s actual names.”

“Right.” Harvey said. He gave Ben and Bill a big smile. “Don’t mind me, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, it’s just...”

“Habit?” Ben suggested.

“Yeah!” Harvey said. “See Angel, habit. That means it’s not rudeness-“

“Punching your face might be a habit I pick up.” Angel said, raising her eyebrows slightly. Harvey shut up.

“Okay,” She said, tilting her head towards the bookcase. “knock yourselves out!

Ben went over to the left side while Bill busied himself on the right.

Ben pulled out book after book, reading the spine. The Rocky Horror show looked good, if it hadn’t got so many nude scenes. Mamma mia also looked promising, but a bit much to put on on late notice.

“Hey!” Ben said, pulling out a book. “How about Follies?”

“Nu-nu-never heard of i-it.” Ben said, stepping towards Bill.

Ben had, but a while ago. He flipped to the blurb and read: ”New York, 1971. There’s a party on the stage of the Weismann Theatre. Tomorrow the iconic building will be demolished. Thirty years after their final performance, the Follies girls gather to have a few drinks, sing a few songs and lie about themselves.”

Bill looked up from the book and grinned. “Lu-looks good.”

“It’s a musical.” Ben said. “I wonder how many people here sing.”

“We cu-could get the su-su-singing d-department thingy i-i-involved.”

“Okay.” Ben said. “Let’s suggest this.”

They headed back to the circle, which not only had a few people remaining. Many were on the stage or tampering with lights. Angel was sitting though, talking to a girl with long brown hair in two side plaits.

“We think we might do this.” Ben said, handing it to her.

“Follies!” She said, beaming at the book like it was her own baby. “Man, I love this musical!”

“You chose something?” Alyssa asked from behind them.

“Yeah.” Ben said. “Follies.”

Alyssa nodded. “You have great taste. Everyone!” She clapped her hands. “Circle.”

Students trailed in and soon everyone was sitting down again, apart from Alyssa, Ben and Bill.

“We thought we’d go with Follies.” Ben said, looking around at everyone in what he hoped was a business like way. “It looks very, uh... good.”

“Dude, that’s my favourite musical.” Harvey said, getting a mocking ‘Dude!’ from Angel.

“It’s got songs.” Ben said. “Are people here comfortable with singing?”

“Lucy is.” Angel said, tilting her head at the girl she was talking to. “She takes Drama and Singing.”

“Oh.” Ben said, forgetting that people probably would take both.

“I do too.” A guy with brilliant blond hair said.

“So do I.” Another boy said.

“We’ll be able to get the songs nailed down.” Alyssa said. “Now, do you want to help with the script?”

The book was already a script book, so Ben didn’t really know what to say. Luckily, Bill answered for him.

“Wu-wu-we could a-add jokes, mu-mu-maybe? But it’s qu-quite a long p-play, so maybe we sh-should shorten it?”

Alyssa positively beamed at him. “You boys thinking about taking Drama?”

“Eh.” Ben said, who was much more interested in the architecture the school offered.

“I th-think so.” Bill said. “It’s fun, y-you know? Being someone else.”

And that’s when Ben remembered something; Bill didn’t stutter when he was pretending to be another person.

“Well, I hope you do.” Alyssa said. “You seem to have a mind for this sort of stuff.”

Bill nodded happily and Alyssa flicked through Follies. “Okay, anyone who wants to help, come here. Anyone else, be quiet.”

There was the sound of scraping chairs as a few people came to join them and the others wandered onto the stage.

“Right.” Alyssa said, beaming around. “Let’s plan this play!”

 

 **Stan Uris, in one of the school’s cooking Classrooms with Beverly Marsh**  
Stan and Bev dumped their bags of ingredients on the counter-top, food spilling as they did so.

Richie had ordered everyone to work on their Fate work, and since Stan and Bev had decided to do a food stall, they went into the small village to buy supplies. Neither of them had done any baking outside of cooking classes, but Stan thought he had a pretty good idea on what they’d need. Bev was helpful too, apart from when she begged Stan to buy a full sized bubble machine. But they managed to buy what they needed and had stayed bellow budget, so Stan hoped that was something.

Now, with arms feeling like led, they stood in the Food classroom, a pile of ingredients in front of them and no real clue on what to do. Mrs Wilson had said they could use the room for three hours before it was in use again, and Stan was painfully aware of how limited his cooking skills actual were.

“I think we’re meant to use that” Bev pointed towards a dangerous looking whisk, “to mix the eggs and the uh… other things.”

As much as Stan loved Bev, which he truly did, she really wasn’t much help their current situation. Then again, Stan didn’t really know what to do either. So, doing the most logical thing he thought of, Stan made his way to the bookcase in the corner of the room and flicked through the cool books until he found something helpful.

‘Easy Bakes: Pastries and Cakes’ seemed very promising. It became apparent after skimming it that they had got the main ingredients for most of the things they needed to make. All that was left to do now was actually bake.

“Okayyy.” Stan said, walking over to Bev and dropping the book on the table. “I think we can start here.”

Bev let out a large sigh from her nose, her hands on her hips in a sort of power stand. Stan opened the book and found a few recipes he thought him and Bev could complete without burning the entire school down.

“Let’s try and plan this as best we can.” Stan said, looking through the book. “What should we make?”

Bev came over and joined him, looking at the pages. “We could make three batches of cakes then decorate them?” She suggested.

“Okay...” Stan said, trying to bookmark the cake recipe with a hot pink posit note. “What else?”

Bev flipped through pages, occasionally stopping and giving off a “mmm” sound. Finally, she stopped at a vegan chocolate cookie recipe, looking pointed at Stan. He booked marked it too.

After careful consideration, they have four different cupcake recipes, two cookie recipes and a danish pastry recipe that Stan suspects they won’t pull off.

“Okay.” Bev said, her eyes gleaming. “Let’s do this.”

Ten minutes later, they’re doing pretty good. They’ve made cake mix and Bev was lining the tray with grease paper, pressing down the sides neatly. Maybe Stan was wrong, maybe this wasn’t so hard.

“Okay.” Bev said, running her hands together. “Let’s put these in the oven and start on another batch.”

Stan put on the very bright oven clothes, smiling pleasantly. Normally, Stan made sure whatever task he was doing was done the absolute best it could be done. And along with that came stress and pressure that made whatever Stan was doing seem totally unenjoyable. But with Bev, it was different. Of course he was still putting in as much effort as he could, but her laughing with him, and doing her little comical expressions when she was confused, and talking to him loudly over the sound of whatever machine was on made it hard for Stan not to enjoy it. Something about Bev just took the stress off what they were doing, and Stan found himself laughing without worrying.

It was a nice feeling, and instead of thinking about the ‘What ifs?’, Stan could live in the moment.

He pushed the tray of cupcakes in and shut the oven door. Bev turned it up to fifteen minutes and gave Stan a very floury high-five.

“These will totally rock!” She said, grinning ear to ear.

“They better.” Stan said, but he was smiling.

Twenty minutes later, the first disaster strikes.

They moved onto making chocolate cookies. Bev had the mixture in a metal bow, and was beginning to rather violently whisk it. Just as she started, Stan decided it would be a good time to collect the shape cutters. He wove around Bev and tripped over the whisk’s wire.

The whisk went flying, chocolate splattering the ceiling. It landed behind another counter, wedged between the wall.

Stan sat up on the floor and Bev froze in a very shocked position, her eyes wide and mouth gaping open.

Stan could just hear the sounds of the whisk spinning. “Holy-“

“Shit.” Bev said.

Stan stood up, whipping his hands together. From where he was standing, he could see that the whisk was trapped.

“How in the flying fuck are we meant to get it out?” Stan asked.

“We could summon it?” Bev said quietly.

“Summon my will to live while you’re at it.” Stan said. He grabbed a wooden spoon off the table and leaned over to the counter, trying to un-lodge it.

He gave it two small taps, then stuck the spoon in. But instead of knocking the whisk out, the spoon got caught in the moving part of the whisk instead. Stan let go of the spoon, and it flew straight pass him.

Bev sucked last minute, and the spoon crashed into the wall behind her.

“Shit!” She said, standing up straight again. “No more flying spoons heading my way?”

“Not yet.” Stan said grimly. “How do we get it out without...uh-“

“Getting our fingers sliced off?” Bev said.

Stan nodded. The whisk was still spinning, and at extraordinary speed. If anyone tries to pick it up, they’d surely get hurt. And the handle bit was stuck right behind the counter.

Bev took a deep breathe. “I’ll try.”

“What?” Stan said. “No, you can’t!”

“I have to.” Bev continued, walking towards the whisk with her head held high. “It’s our only hope.”

“But Bev, it’s too dangerous!”

“Tell the losers I love them.” Bev said, then leaned towards the whisk.

Stan ran over, not wanting his best friend to visit the local doctor for missing fingers.

Bev reached out her hand. But, she didn’t go much further for maybe one reason: she couldn’t see. The whisk was spluttering cookie mix everywhere, and with Bev as close as she was, it was zooming her way fast.

“Ah, shit!” She said, and stood up so it splattered her leg instead.

“Guess you can tell the losers you love them yourself.” Stan remarked.

“Haha.” Bev said flatly. She had brown drops of mix on her face, and Stab wordlessly handed her a towel so she could whip it away. “How did you manage to trip over the wire anyway?”

“Me?” Stan asked. “You let go!”

“What did you except me to do?”

“Have a better grip.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

“It’s not my fault.” Stan said, though a part of him knew it was. “Nothing is ever my fault.”

“Well-“ Bev said, but the something crossed Stan’s mind.

“Wait.” He said.

He walked over to the plug socket and switched the whisk off. The humming sound stopped immediately.

Stan and Bev stared at each other from across the room.

“Oh.” Was the only thing Bev could finally say.

Over an two hours later, they’ve finished.

Trays and trays of cakes, cookies and pasties were on the counters and table. The room smelt of sponge and cinnamon. Stan stood by the door, appreciating their work. Apart from the slight mix up with the whisk, which him and Bev had sworn not to tell anyone ever, things had run smoothly.

Bev was sitting on the window-sill, also looking over at what they’d cooked. “We really did do well.” She said, kicking her legs absentmindedly.

“Of course we did.” Stan said, walking over so he was sitting next to her. “Why wouldn’t we.”

Bev raised her eyebrows then laughed. “The best cooks this school has ever seen, right?”

“Of course.” Stan said, then laughed too.

And it didn’t matter that Stan and Bev had messed up a little. It didn’t matter that cookie mixed had splattered the white wall, or that flour was on Bev’s lower cheek, or that some egg yoke was on the table.

Stan didn’t see the wrongs or the mess. He didn’t think ‘what if’. All he saw when he looked over their work was that it had been some of the best three hours of his life.

And that Bev Marsh was someone irreplaceable.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, planning the fashion show outside**

“No, not there, there! Right! Not left, am I speaking a different fucking language? Right a bit... no...Yes there you go.” Eddie sighed as Blake positioned the card board cut out tree onto the folding screen, taping it on with some ‘DIY Clear Hardware Tape!’ Eddie had bought just a week ago.

“How’s it going so far?” Mike came out of the building from talking to the fourth formers after claiming their instructions were too ‘vague’. Eddie just thought they were being picky ass pricks.

“Some people don’t know their lefts and rights,” Eddie raised his voice in Blake’s direction. “But other than that it’s looking pretty good. How are the pricks?”

“They aren’t that bad, Eddie, you just got annoyed at one boy who called you a child.” Mike chuckled and leant his elbow on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Because I am not a child!” Eddie defended.

“Ok ok.” Mike raised his hands. “Anything I can do here?”

“How far down are we on the list?” Eddie took the piece of paper and trailed down it with his fingers. “Ok so we’ve pretty much done the staging and stuff, though I still think we should have spotlights...”

“Eddie, it’s not gonna happen. We literally cannot do it.” Mike shook his head as he stared at their stage.

“Ok,” Eddie sighed. “Hey what if, to help with the theme and all, we sprinkle some grass over the stage?”

“Sprinkle grass? They’re just gonna slip and crack their necks and di-“

“No look, stop being over dramatic Mike,” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “If we just,” he gave the paper to Mike and bent down to the grass and took several handfuls, walked over to the stage and little trickled the grass tips over the edges of it. “Like this but the whole way round, it will create like an outline thing.”

“Outline thing, very professional Eds.” Richie’s voice filled the air and Eddie turned round to see his arm sprawled over Mike’s shoulder and a lazy grin on his face. “Lookin’ pretty good so far guys.”

“Pretty much all Eddie’s work really.” Mike leaned his head on Richie’s shoulder.

“You were the one who came up with the entire theme, Mike, I just brought it to life. I’d say we make a pretty good team.” Eddie smiled at Mike and made his way over to them.

“I’d say you two need a break, you guys have been working on this for almost the whole fucking day.” Richie said. “I could use a good ginger beer myself actually.”

“Actually, I should go check up on Stan and Bev, could be cooking up a storm in there.” Mike smirked. “Quite literally.”

“Well, we’ll be in the canteen with what ever seats are left if you need us!” Eddie called after Mike as he and Richie strolled down to the cafeteria.

“So,” Richie drawled as he got them both a drink and sat down on a bench in the corner. “How’s it going out there?”

“Pretty good. Almost finished on the design front of it. Now we just wait for the clothes and stuff.” Eddie replied, taking a sip out of the bottle.

“No need to rush Eds, got all the time in the world out there.” He hung on the word ‘all’.

“Yeah, just kinda want it to happen like tomorrow now, anticipation is getting to me I guess.” Eddie frowned for shorter than a millisecond. He didn’t entirely know why. Well, he did, it was like his brain was swerving in and out of cloud banks. Into the warm sunlight with an easy breeze lifting at his hair and bright blue skies that just radiated the feeling of... happiness.

Then being plunged back down into the abyss of clouds and damp weather with rain sticking his clothes to his body and rain drops trailing down his face, fooling him to wonder if they were actually tears instead of water. This often seemed to happen at the moment. But instead of the sun and rain being either side of the line of cloud bank, it was Whitemore and his house. He would not call it home.

Whenever he had a chance to even hear his own thoughts, he’d be swooped back down below the clouds into a massive storm, but instead of the winds whistling in his ear and blinding him, it was his mother’s words.

~”go now Eddie-Bear! Don’t forget the list!”~

Every time he even sits down to eat lunch, or while brushing his hair in the morning-

~”you’re frail Edward! Fragile!”~

he would hear her, screaming at him,

~”do not ever touch that dearest! You’ll be hurt! You’re weak Eddie!”~

that we wasn’t like others, he was breakable.

~”CAREFUL EDDIEEE!”~

delicate.

~”you know what happens now Eddie!”~

frail.

~”you know what happens when you don’t listen to me Edward!”~

weak.

~”take your meds Eddie! Because YOU’RE-“~

“Fragile!” The bottle shattered on the ground as Eddie started vigorously shaking.

“Eds! Eddie! Eddie are you ok?” Richie jumped up and Eddie could vaguely feel Richie’s hands on his arms. The clouds began to get lighter.

He could feel himself be dragged down onto the bench again and felt his inhaler be pushed to his lips. He breathed. The rain wasn’t pouring anymore.

“Just breathe Eddie, you’re ok, breathe.” Richie’s words rang in his ear. He was ok. He was in no danger. He was ok. The winds began to slow.

Richie was rubbing reassuring circles on Eddie’s back and Eddie felt he could see a bit better again.

“You’re ok.” Richie hummed in his ear like a mantra. “You’re ok.”

Eddie looked at the ground and saw the emerald shatters of glass all around him. But he didn’t care. He was ok. And maybe, just maybe, there was a little crack of light in the cloud bank.

He took a deep breath and looked at Richie and met his eyes. “I’m ok.”

“Thinking about you’re mum?” He asked with a sad smile, still rubbing circles on Eddie’s back.

Eddie nodded and looked down again. “I just... don’t want her to come. That’s all.”

“I don’t think that’s all, at all, but you can tell me what’s up if you want, when you’re ready.” Richie said seriously.

“I’m sorry for, you know, what happened a minute ago.” Eddie almost whispered, suddenly feeling Richie’s hand on his.

“Don’t be, you can’t help it. I’m just glad the glass didn’t hurt you.” Richie looked down at the floor to wear glass was scattered all around them. “Come on, i’ll get you a drink of water. Maybe in a paper cup this time.” He chuckled lightly.

They got up and trod across the glass carefully to the jugs of water with paper cups stacked by the side.

“Richie?” Eddie asked and Richie turned around to face him.

“Yeah Eds?”

“Thank you. Again. I feel like every time I have a, a panic attack, you’re always there for me.” Eddie tried to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks

“Of course I am. I make it my job. Know why Eds?” Richie filled a cup with cool water. Eddie shook his head. “Cause you’re my best friend. And that’s what best friends do for each other. Any other of the losers would do the same too.”

Eddie thought for a moment. Yes, any of the losers would help him. Because they were all best friends. Lame as that’s sounds. And he loved all of them.

And just like that, the cloud bank completely cleared for the first time in a while and he could see the wistful,  
breezy, light clouds instead of dark, threatening thunder clouds. Sunlight shone on him. But he noticed that this time he wasn’t alone, he was with all of the losers. They were right next to him, by his side.

Yes, he thought. He was ok.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> their friendships will be the death of meeeeee


	26. Forever Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Losers all prepare for the fate the next day:)

**Beverly Marsh, in their Common Room over break**

“Bake? Check. Play? Check. Stage slash fashion show thingy? Check. Bake? Did I already say bake? Eh, check.” Stan paced around the room, mentally ticking off his checklist of what needed to be done.

“Stan. Sit down. You’re gonna tire yourself and be handing out cookies like a freaking zombie tomorrow.” Mike walked over to him and sat him down on a mahogany brown common room couch.

“If anybody is meant to be going through a checklist it should be Richie.” Ben grinned at Richie who was flopped over the entire surface area of the rug.

“Nah, I have full trust in you guys. Enough that I don’t have to even think up a checklist.” Richie lifted his arm and gave them all a thumbs up.

“Is that it? Or is it the fact you can’t be bothered to think up a checklist.” Bev laughed, along with a few others.

“Hey, I’m the whole project manager of this.” Richie said proudly.

“S-s-some c-cuh-could be f-fooled.” Bill smirked, dodging Richie’s flailing kicks at him.

“To be fair, he has got a pretty good hold of things.” Eddie shrugged.

“Why, I thank thy Eddie spaghetti.” Richie placed a hand on his heart.

A minute or so later a knock came at the common room door. Nobody ever knocks common room doors, they tend to just barge in and hope nobody was making out on a sofa. Bev had learnt that the hard way. She shuddered.

“I’ll get it.” Chloe got up from her seat and strolled to the door. “And how can I help you toda-“

“Is Mike in here?” One of the voices asked and pushed open the door a little wider. Bev guessed it must have been fourth formers because they came presented with clothing stacked in there arms. Eddie rolled his eyes and he and Mike got up to take the outfits.

“Thanks guys.” Mike nodded appreciatively.

“See ya later Mike.” The boy nodded a look at Eddie and smiled. “Smalls.”

“I’m not a fucking ch-!” Mike slammed the door shut before the fourth formers heard what he was gonna say and they walked back into the little circle, plus Richie lying in the middle, they’d just been sat in.

“Woah are those all the outfits?!” Bev stared in wonder and unraveled Bill’s arm off her shoulders and walked to where they were sitting.

“Huh, guess they do have some sort of talent.” Eddie flicked through the clothes.

“What did you think they’d give you? Some curtains to tie up with a hair bobble?” Buffy walked over and took a look at the folded pile of cloth.

“That if we were lucky.” Eddie breathed out a laugh through his nose.

“I guess we are gonna need to retrieve our south and west models to try them on.” Mike said, grim seeping into his voice.

“Do we really have too?” Eddie groaned and rolled his head back on the sofa.

“Well, kinda, incase they don’t fit them.” Stan explained.

“We can do that on the day.” Eddie pleaded. “I want at least one more day without having to see them.”

Suddenly, like Bev had said, somebody had barged into their common room. Richie groaned and sat up a little. “Who the fuck now?”

“What are all of you doing in here on a hot summers day?” Matron rolled in a trolly with all of her cleaning equipment in it. She saw the mountains of clothing in Mike and Eddie hand. “And if you were going to ask me to wash all of that, the answer is no.”

“Oh, no we weren’t, it’s just for the fate tomorrow.” Eddie explained. Bev couldn’t help but smile.

“I see. Well why aren’t you trying them on then?” Matron asked as she dusted high into the corner of the common room.

“We uh... hadn’t thought of that actually.” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows in thought.

“In that case,” Matron smiled. “I suggest you take all of those outside and try them on yourselves. Don’t forget you have to actually like them as well.”

Richie shrugged. “She has a point.”

“Eddie!” Bev suddenly squealed in excitement and leapt to her feet.

“Bev!” Eddie replied with the same sort of energy, looking expectant of what she was about to say.

“Know what we should do?” Bev grinned at him.

“Try on all the outfits like matron said?” Eddie replied.  
  
“Yes, but we should do it on the stage outside! Wouldn’t that be fun?” She took Mike’s load of jungle wear and scanned them.

“I guess that’d be a more entertaining way of seeing if we like them.” Eddie nodded, a smile rising at his lips.

“Anybody care to join us?” Bev asked as they walked to the door.

“I’ll have a look if that’s ok.” Mike followed them.

“Why of course.” Bev beamed. “Good tidings fair noble peasants, until we meet again!” And with that, they walked out of the door and into the hallway, down the stairs, through another hallway, and outside.

“You know, you really would not think it’s only April with this kind of heat burning at your face.” Eddie shielded his eyes with his hand as they made their way to the stage.

“For Eddie to be saying it’s hot while wearing booty shorts is just heat on another level.” Mike chuckled.

Hairs around Beverly’s forehead stuck and curled to her face as they finally reached their destination and they slumped down the clothes onto the chairs.

“Ok,” Bev rested her hands on her hips. “Where do we get changed?”

“Behind those folding screens.” Eddie pointed to the two either side of the stage.

“Let’s just hope nobody is behind you when you get changed.” Mike wiped his forehead with the back of his hands.

Bev thought about it for a moment then shrugged it off. “Eh, their win if they see us I guess.”

“Know where I can buy some of your confidence? Not sure I’d have enough money for it but I could save up.” Eddie jokes as he picked out a fur coat like it were the most precious piece of clothing ever made. “Oh my GOD! They even made us some tiger ears!” He squealed.

A sudden thought struck to Bev and she couldn’t help but yell. “WAIT!” Both Mike and Eddie jumped out of their skin.

“You alright Bev?” Mike asked her in concern.

“We should use FACE PAINTS! And tomorrow when the models are getting ready we can get like you,” she pointed at Mike. “To draw lion faces and zebra faces and all that on their faces, woah I said faces a lot, and then that would just complete the outfits!”

“Bev you fucking genius.” Eddie nodded slowly.

“Wait hold on why me?” Mike scrunched up his eyebrows.

“Because you are amazing at calligraphy and that’s basically art.” Bev explained.

“Well, Ben is amazing at art too, don’t you think he’d do a better job than me?” Mike recommended.

“He’s doing the play, isn’t he? Stop putting yourself down Mike, you’re terrific at art.” Eddie patted his shoulder.

Mike sighed. “Alright i’ll do it.”

“Yes!” Bev clapped and started to pick through clothes to try on.

“I’ll go look for them now actually, don’t wanna have that last minute rush of losing everything tomorrow.” Mike nodded at them. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He jogged off and into the building.

“See you later!” Bev called after him. “Right, let’s get changed.” She’d found a leopard printed mini skirt and a matching over sized top. She looked around and catched Greta walking off the field. “Greta!”

She turned to face Bev and she could hear the scoff from where she was standing. “What do you want Beaverly!” She shouted back.

“A hair tie! I’ll give it back?” Bev asked, catching the roll of Greta’s eyes from a mile away.

“If you lose it I’m telling Matron!” Greta threatened.

“You do that!” Bev caught the hair bobble that was sling shotted over to her and gave a thumbs up. She ran behind a folding screen and caught a glimpse of Eddie’s fur coat and suddenly she was elated. Even in the hot beating sun, she thought these moments had just about tied with first place. She didn’t know why, but the thought of having a mini fashion show with newly made clothes with Eddie just made her want to scream with happiness.

“You dressed yet Bev?” Eddie called to her, looking the opposite direction.

“Oh shoot,” Bev had been so caught up in her happiness she’d completely forgotten that was the task at hand. “Uh yeah almost!”

After Beverly had tied up her shirt she walked up onto the stage and met with Eddie. He was wearing a polar bear coat with tiger ears pulled up onto his hair.

“Jesus Eddie that coat goes over your booty shorts.” Bev laughed in glee.

“Bill would certainly be swooning if he saw you like that.” Eddie looked at her and grinned with a glint in his eye. Bev linked her arm with Eddie’s and they strutted down the stage, cat walks and everything. They reached the end of it and Eddie did a sudden slut drop and Bev thought her sides were actually going to break with laughter.

“Ok,” Bev took a big sigh to calm her laughter as they got off the stage to choose their next outfit. “Outfit number two.”

Eddie walked onto the stage wearing a long ass shirt just reaching the top of his knees with a belt clung just at his waist. He strolled across the stage twirling as he did so. Then Bev crossed him as he returned and she excelled down the stage with some cowboy dungarees, luckily with shorts and not jeans, and a zebra top underneath. She reached the end and caught sight of Mike returning, clapping as he did so, with the others this time too.

Next Eddie wore a leaf printed shirt which matched his dark green booty shorts and had found some nearby daisys to put behind his ear. He strutted down the stage and waved at their new audience. Bev so Richie take an ever so deep breath and she smiled wider.

She was wearing a loose fitted beige dress that hung down by her thighs and some sun glasses that were apparently just sat down on a chair by somebody earlier in, she guessed. Bev waltzed down the stage. She reached the end, lifted her sun glasses, and winked at Bill, who was staring wide eyed at her like a rabbit in headlights.

She and Eddie met with the losers after they’d gotten changed back into their normal clothes and folded up the outfits.

“So,” Bev grinned at them all. “Opinions?”

“I th-th-th-thought they w-w-wuh-were am-ama-amazing.” Bill walked to her and without warning, took her cheek and kissed her lips. Beverly blushes under the touch.

“Ok Bill no need to get all horny over Beverly.” Richie smirked, getting smacked in the arm by Bill.

“S-s-says y-you.” Bill retorted.

“I can promise you I was not getting horny over Beverly.” Richie folded his arms.

Bill raised his eyebrows. Richie pretended to have no idea what he was implying so Bill dropped it.

“I think they’re all pretty good.” Mike nodded. “I found the face paints and put them in the common room cupboard.”

“Great.” Eddie smiled. They picked up the clothes and all started heading back to the common room. Bev smiled to herself as she replayed what had just happened again and again in her head.

Bev couldn’t think of a better way to have spent a hot April morning.

 

**Stan Uris, in the Common Room**

“Jesus Christ!” Ben groaned as he scribbled out and scrunched yet another piece of paper he’d been drawing on for the past five minutes.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the ninth time you’ve said that now Haystack.” Richie pointed out as he looked across to Ben who was sitting at a little wooden desk, opposite the common room door.

“And you’re counting because...?” Ben replied irritably as he sketched aggressively.

Richie held his hands up in defence. “Just saying.”

“Well don’t say anything because quite frankly it’s distracting me a lot and I really need to get this done because un-fucking-talented fourth formers cANT DO IT THEMSELVES.” The pencil lead snapped and the paper tore.

Stan finished his last bite of sandwich he taken as contraband from the canteen ten minutes ago and walked up to Ben.

“Ben,” he said calmly and placed his hand gently on Ben’s shoulder to calm him down. “What’s wrong?”

Ben took a deep breath and sat back down again. “Me. I’m wrong. For thinking fourth formers actually had TALENT! I ask for a suitable backdrop painted for the Follies, is that too much to ask?” Everybody stayed quiet, assuming it was a rhetorical question.

It was not.

“Is that too much to ask?!” He repeated again and everybody hastily shook their heads. “What I thought! And they say, ‘we haven’t studied the Follies so we can’t paint a back drop’” Ben mocked. “And I just thought well, you can SURELY DRAW A PERFORMANCE AREA OR SOME SHIT! THEY’VE DONE BLOODY SHAKESPEARE HAVEN’T THEY? IT CAN’T BE HA-“

“Ok ok, Ben, calm down, it’s gonna be ok.” Bev walked up to help Stan calm Ben down.

“But the fate is tomorrow and I don’t even have a sketch to go off.” Ben said in frustration and almost sadness.

“You know what? We don’t need the fourth formers, they clearly can’t do shit.” Stan defended Ben.

“Look what they did for Mike and Eddie, their outfits are amazing.” Ben held out his hand in the general direction of the losers.

“That’s a whole different subject, Ben.” Bev said.

“Besides, we can probably do it better ourselves.” Stan said confidently. “So the Follies, what’s it about?”

Ben roughly explained what the play was about and Stan could easily picture how Ben wanted the layout. He took some paper and and another pencil from the chipped pencil pot and gave it to Mike.

“Ok I think I have an idea. Ben, I would like you to worry about this no more. Mike and I have got this under control and we shall report back to you once we have finished.” Stan took Mike’s wrist, some fingers brushing his hand, and walked to the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come because I should probably hel-“

“This is none of your matter anymore, Ben. See you guys later.” Stan waved as he and Mike walked out of the door.

“Got his plan under wraps huh?” Mike asked.

“Huh?” Stan was briefly distracted by the fact his hand was still half clenched over Mike’s. As if it were on fire and burning the entire palm of his hand, he shook off Mike’s and decided to actually listen to what was being said. “Uh, Yeah, I think so. Ben’s just so stressed, had to do something to help out.”

They reached the hall in a comfortable silence. “Right,” Stan nodded as he looked at the wall behind the curtains of which this foyer, Stan had pictured, was supposed to be painted. “Think you can draw a great big foyer on that piece of paper?”

“Probably not-“

“Shut up yes you can. I’ll go get some paints and help you if you need it once I return. Sound good?” Stan asked as he retied his shoelaces into a tight double knot.

“Yes sir.” Mike chuckled as he leant down onto the stage.

“Ok, see you in a few minutes.” Stan replied and strode out fo the door and up the stairs two at a time. “Ok paints paints paints.” He muttered to himself as he walked down the art corridor, scanning rooms for any obvious signs of paint. He stopped himself. “Stan what the fuck every art room is gonna have some form of paint.”

He walked into a classroom and rattled through cupboards. “In what universe are there not paints in cupboards?” Stan looked around the classroom, catching sight of some of the art that’d been splattered over large canvases. His eyes seemed pulled to a rather big painting that was hung on the wall. Flocks of birds swooping down and around. Black birds, Bullfinches, Chaffinches, Doves, Robins, Wrens, Stan could go on and on identifying the sheer amount of little birds on the canvas.

And suddenly in the background, as if it had just appeared in a split second while Stan had been admiring the birds, standing in all it’s glory was Whitemore. It’s towers shining in the sun and, Stan thought it were rather clever. One side standing in the beautiful night sky with stars twinkling brightly, with the moon just rising over the alpine mountains. And on the other side there was the sun shooting it’s beams onto the ocean, reflecting water marks on Whitemore. Stan awed at it for a moment. In a way, the painting was right about Whitemore, right about life.

There were light and dark moments of your life time, happy and sad, but no matter what, the sun will always be brighter than the far away stars. Happiness will always breach over sadness. However, even sadness can be beautiful, because the body is carving yourself into a more unique and powerful you. We need both emotions, just like we need daytime and nighttime.

“‘Scuse me?” Somebody knocked on the door, completely and utterly knocking Stan off his perch. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle ya.”

“It’s- Uh, it’s ok.” Stan brushes down his trousers. “Can I um, help you?”

“Just lookin’ for some paints,” the boy had a sort of southern drawl. “Know where I can find any?”

“That’s what I’m here for actually, haven’t found any yet though.” Stan replied honestly.

“Didn’t look like you were searchin’ very far.” The boy chuckled. Stan shifted uncomfortably, he really just wanted to raid the cupboards for paints and get back to Mike. “I’m Andy by the way, fifth former.”

“Ah.” Was all Stan said, not really knowing what else to say.

“Here they are.” Andy reached into the one cupboard Stan hadn’t check and pulled out two big pots. “There are more in there if you need ‘em.”

“Thank you.” Stan muttered and walked to the cupboard.

“Mind my askin’, what form are you in?” Andy asked.

“First...?” Stan replied slowly.

“Ah, thought you were a lil meek for a second or third.” Andy teased while walking out of the door.

“mEEK?!” Stan almost laughed.

“I’ll be on my way now!” He called from down the hall.

‘Bet He’s in west tower.’ Stan thought to himself as he carried a red paint pot, a white one and a gold one back to the hall.

“There you are.” Mike smiled as Stan re-entered the room with his arms full of pots. “Ok so I think I’ve drawn the sort of foyer you want.” Mike said as Stan dropped the pots onto the stage. He took the paper and stared at it.

“Quick question,” Stan said, seeing Mike wince a little. His heart beat a little faster. “How did you see exactly into my mind and just transfer it onto this sheet of paper?”

“I guess great minds think alike.” Mike shrugged.

“Oh definitely. Right, let’s get painting!” Stan opened the paint pot and grabbed a paint brush that had been balanced on top of them.

They splattered paint all over the back board, following Mike’s exact copy of Stan’s idea that was on the piece of paper. Often getting distracted by flying paint that headed there way.

“Hey!” Stan laughed as Mike flicked some bright red paint half across his face and down onto his white shirt. “That’s never coming off now.”

“Eh you have more.” Mike continued to paint the red carpet.

“So do you.” Stan painted a thick stripe along Mike’s back.

“Oh so you wanna play this game do you?” Mike challenged teasingly and grabbed another paintbrush to dip in the gold.

“You’re on.” Stan replied boldly. What Stan hadn’t thought would happen that lunch time was a full blown paint fight. Golden liquid flew at Stan and plastered onto his face, all over his lips and a bit of his hair.

He hit back at Mike, flicking the red paint all over his trousers and, again, face. About an hour later they had finished painting the foyer and stepped back.

“This reminds me of when me and my grandfather painted to celebrate Hanukkah.” Stan smiled at the memories that flickered through his mind.

“Miss home?” Mike smiled sadly.

“How can I miss home if I’m already in it?” Stan looked at Mike and took his hand, finding it hard to ignore the sticky feeling of paint beneath both of their fingers.

“Good point.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before resuming reality again and packing up the paints. Stan coughed.

“I really cannot be shitted to put these back again.” Stan sighed. “Besides we need to wash ourselves off.” He almost laughed at the state they were in.

That was the thing, he didn’t care that there was paint up his fingernails, drying by the second. Or that it was in his hair and would probably take multiple washes to get out. And that got him thinking. Maybe a home isn’t a place.

Maybe home is a person.

 

 **Richie Tozier, in English Class**  
“And then we can have one of those giant hit thingys, but without a metal hammer because that would cost a lot and we can have a lottery but we can’t buy a prize so we’ll have to rig it. UNLESS! Unless someone can donate something! OH, WE SHOULD HAVE A CHARITY AUCTION!”

“Richie!” Mrs Foy yelled, slamming her hands on her desk. Richie snapped his mouth close.

It wasn’t if he could help it though. Ideas for the Fate kept on coming to him like someone was catapulting them at his head. Every minute, he’d have a new idea better than the rest. And what else to do but to talk about it?

Though Mrs Foy didn’t look very apperceive.

Luckily for Richie (and probably the majority of the class) the bell rang at that moment, freeing them from the hour long torture also know as English.

“Shit, that was awful.” Bev said, walking over to Richie while swinging her rucksack over her shoulders.

“She cu-could hear yu-yu-you.” Bill said, nodding towards Mrs Foy, but she was busy stacking books with a disapproving look on her face.

“Ugh, let her hear me.” Bev said. “Honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? A detention?”

Richie’s head shot up. “Oh no, I don’t think so! If you get a detention that means Fate work is slowed down, which means-“

“Yeah, yeah.” Bev smirked. “Okay I won’t get a detention. Happy?”

Richie made a hump! sound, zipping up his bag. So what if he was taking the Fate work seriously? He was project manager after all. And it felt huge to have so much responsibility on him. But it also felt kind of nice too. Nice that Mrs Wilson had actually trusted him enough. Ha, Richie thought. At least someone did.

“Okay, now off to sewing.” Eddie said. “Yayyyy.”

“I hate sewing.” Ben mumbled. “I suck at it.”

“You’re only saying that because one time to almost sewed over Stan’s hand.” Mike pointed out.

“Yeah, well that’s a good enough reason.” Stan said. “Should we go?”

But Richie was suddenly struck with an idea. Well, another one. Really, he could go for the world record here.

There was so many layout ideas in his head he knew he’d forgot if he didn’t jot them down. And there wasn’t much time left anyway. What did Mrs Wilson say? He could take time off lessons if it came down to it. Did this come down to it. Richie said yes, the other half of the worlds population probably said no. But a yes from himself satisfied Richie just fine.

“Embark without me!” Richie cried in a loud voice, making people in the corridor turn around. “I shall have to bid you goodbye! Be gone now!”

Richie finished with a fake tear wiping. The corridor was completely silent.

“I just meant I’m not going to sewing.” Richie clarified, shrugging slightly.

“Did it ever cross your mind to, I don’t know, say that?” Stan asked, giving the now resumed corridor a sweeping look.

“Ah, but what’s the fun in that!” Richie said, swinging his arms around Stan and Ben.

“Wait, you’re not doing sewing?” Ben asked. “Why?”

“Long story short, Benny, I am pr-“

“Project manager.” The six chorused.

Richie smiled. “Yes, that I am. And being project manager comes with so many responsibilities, I need extra time to complete them. So, I’m taking some Fair time off to plan the stalls. I shall part now and-“

“Mrs W-w-wilson gave yuh-you permission?” Bill asked. Richie noted with smugness that his hand was gripped onto Bev’s. “Wu-wu-when?”

“When I made an oh so professional meeting with her.” Richie said. “Well, I’ll be on my merry way now so-“

“Wait.” Ben said, cutting Richie off yet again. Maybe it was an annual thing, cutting the ends of his sentences off. “You said stall designs.”

“Yep.” Richie said, popping the P.

“I could help with that.” Ben said earnestly.

“How so?” Bev asked from the other end of the line.

“Well,” Ben said, red creeping up his neck with modesty. “I’m okay at building layouts and stuff. Like architecture. I could help you.”

Richie tilted his head. That did seem tempting, actually. Richie had thousands of ideas but bringing to life was definitely hard for him. Everyone got so much in his head it was difficult to slow down and backtrack. And they all knew how amazing Ben was at mapping places out in his head. He had, after all, built their amazing fort in the common room.

“Okay.” Richie said, beaming. “You’re hired!” He tried to high-five Ben but his arm was still around his shoulders so he only succeeded in wacking Ben’s cheek lightly.

“Well, we better get going.” Mike said as the second bell rang. “See y’all.”

“Wait, Richie!” Eddie said.

“Yeah?”

“What should we say if Miss asks where you are?” Eddie said.

“I told you, Mrs Wilson gave me permission-“ Richie said, but Stan raised his eyebrows and Bill coughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie grinned. “But in case Mrs Wilson didn’t?”

“Just say we have to do extra work.” Ben said.

“Got it.” Eddie said. The five Losers walked off and Richie and Ben walked the other way.

“So what were your ideas?” Ben said, pulling a fake-leather notebook from his blazer pocket that he still wore in the blazing heat.

“I have many.” Richie replied, taking his own blazer off and tying it around his waist.

They walked to the greens, which was where the Fate was going to happened. There was already mess from Eddie and Mike’s fashion show and other boxes were spread around the lawn.

“Okay.” Richie said, indicating at a rectangle of free space. “If we have three or four stall things here, we could use them to hold my amazing ideas.”

“Mmm.” Ben said, plopping down on a box. He flicked open his notebook and found a clean page. “So go over your amazing ideas?”

Richie described his elaborate ideas, words tumbling out of his mouth in an attempt to make Ben picture what he was seeing in his mind. Ben scribbled away, biting his tongue slightly. No one else was in the yard and Richie’s voice seemed to fill the air with something new. Something hopeful.

“Okayyyy.” Ben said, finishing his last swish on the paper. “I think I’m done.”

Richie took a huge gulp of breath in, not realising that he’d been talking for so long. He walked over and perched next to Ben, scanning his notebook.

“Woah.” Richie said quietly, too amazed to say much else.

Ben had captured the pictures in Richie’s mind and had drawn them so perfectly Richie almost felt like Ben had somehow looked inside his brain. There were two beautiful sketched stalls, with details etched in down to the last grass blade.

It was all done in the same pencil but the way Ben had toned it made Richie believe it had colour anyway. It felt like one of those old polaroid’s his Mum kept in their navy photo album. Black and White but so defined it felt like you could just hop into it and resume life there.

“You never told us you were so fucking talented.” Richie said softly, looking up to meet Ben’s eyes.

He blushed and looked down, wiping his chin absentmindedly. “It’s just a draft.” He said modesty.

“If that’s a draft then I’m almost frightened to see your master pieces.” Richie said.

Ben laughed slightly. “I’m not an artist, trust me. Sketches just help me see the visuals. Yanno, like-“

Ben flipped back to show Richie a diagram of the stall. It was a lot more confusing but Richie was still impressed with how Ben had managed to plan out a whole stall from his long-winded monologue.

“You know, you have a real talent.” Richie said honestly.

“I don’t-“ Ben started, but Richie waved his hands dramatically.

“Stop being so modest, okay? You are a genius, Haystack. I could never do anything like that, a nether could anyone in this school. So own it.”

Ben grinned sheepishly and looked down at his now closed notebook. “My mind just shows me what could happened if I did this, or what could happen if I did that. I guess it comes in useful for drawings and diagrams. I look forward, instead of behind, if you get me. It’s like-“ Ben rolled his shoulders and gazed at Whitemore. “It’s like I always try and make something out of the emptiness. Like nothing ever has to be alone.”

Richie had a small suspicion Ben wasn’t just talking about architecture anymore.

“I get you.” Richie said quietly.

And he did. He understood that Ben could see things in his mind and he could draw them out perfectly. He understood that Ben knew exactly how to make something if had to. And he understood that Ben could make something out of emptiness.

Like the people who’d build Whitemore in the 1700s. This had once just been some flat land near the sea, and they had built a whole school. A whole home.

And they’d taken Richie’s emptiness away too.

 

 **Bill Denbrough, in North’s dormitory after lights out**  
The door to their dormitory softly clicked open and a outlined figure stepped in. Bill held his breath.

The person looked around for a few seconds then left, closing the door behind them.

“Okay fuckers.” Richie said, sitting up in bed. “Let’s go.”

“Shh, Mrs Henderson might still be outside.” Eddie said, but he began to climb out of bed too.

Slowly, the six Losers got up out of bed and put on their slippers and dressing gowns.

“Where the hell are you off too?” Blake mumbled, leaning up awkwardly in bed.

“Oh, lay off them.” Eric said from his bed, laying flat on his back.

Bill sent him a smile. Though they weren’t close, Bill would consider Eric a friend. Eric was friendly to everyone in East and North (well, apart from Blake, but the only person who was friendly with Blake was Greta and Bill doubted you could call it a ‘friendship’) and hadn’t got a mean streak or made cutting remarks about anyone. But he hadn’t got a select few friends, at least Bill didn’t think so. Maybe Eric didn’t mind. He could prefer to not to.

“Okay, follow my lead.” Richie said, taking ninja steps towards the door.

“I think not.” Stan said, making his way to the front of the line.

“Aww.” Richie said, but Mike shhed him, and the six made their way quietly out of their dormitory.

Bill was at the back of the line, behind Ben. They were, of course, heading to North Tower’s rooftop. It had become their sort of secret place since him and Stan had discovered it a few months ago. Actually, it had been a while since they’d been up their. They were planning to go up a while ago but things had been cut short when Luke... well, when Luke had been Luke. But you could see the whole town and forest from the roof. The sea was to their right, always glimmering in the star light, and straight ahead were the sloping mountains.

“There you are!” A light voice said, and Bill smiled as Bev walked towards them from behind the staircase. “It only took you a couple of years.”

“Good to see you too.” Mike teased, and Bev stuck out her tongue at him and she made her way to the back of the line.

“W-w-wow, looking fu-fine Bu-bu-bu-beverly.” Bill whispered to her, and she smacked his arm gently.

“You can’t even see me!” She squealed.

“Mu-mu-maybe, but I hu-have no du-du-doubt you lu-look b-b-beautiful.”

“Ugh, put it on a greeting card.” Stan called from the front, and Bill and Bev squashed their hands over their mouths to muffle their laughter.

“Are we actually going to move before Christmas?” Ben asked, and the line started to slowly move up the stairs.

Bev linked her pinkie finger with Bill’s and he smiled in the dark. Something about Bev made his heart race. She made everything feel so happy, and Bill knew you could never experience a dull moment when you were around her. She was curiosity and bubbles and new. And she was so, so good. Bill felt sure she hadn’t got a bad bone in her body.

He thought back to their first English lesson. How he’d sat next to her, at the back of the classroom. They’d drawn tattoos on their arms with highlighter and got sent out. But even when they were standing outside the classroom, Bill had felt happy to be with her. Maybe his life had been empty for too long. It was like she knew that and filled him up. Completed him.

“Ready?” Stan asked.

“Go on.” Ben urged and Stan pushed open the trap door from his spot at the top of the ladder.

Slowly, the seven Losers descended up the latter, careful not to wake the fifth formers who’s dormitory was directly below.

Bill was last. He pulled himself up onto the roof and smiled at Bev, who was waiting there for him.

“Come on.” Eddie hissed form ahead, an Bill and Bev followed the rest to the part of the roof they always stayed at.

They all laid down, heads resting on the grey stone, and looked up at the sky.  
  
It was a completely clear night, and the sky was a purplish colour as it collided into night. Bill could already see a few stars, glimmering in the sky.

They laid like that in silence for a while, just looking at the sky. Then Eddie sat up and pointed straight ahead.

“Look at the sunset.” He said softly. They all sat up and looked over to where Eddie was pointing.

The sun was disappearing, half of it behind the sea. It glowed a fiery orange, and the sky around it was a pastel yellow. It threw light on the trees and mountains and paths, turning them a golden colour. The sky was now a deep purple and pink.

Bill suddenly wished he could take photos with his mind.

“Not even a photo could do this justice.” Ben said.

“That’s what I love about sunsets.” Eddie said. “No two are the same. Like, if we came up here every day for a week, we’d always see something different. Each sunset is something we’ll only ever see once in our life.”

“Very poetic, Eds.” Richie said, turning to face him.

Eddie shrugged. “When I lived in Derry, I always thought the sunset was saying goodbye to the day. Like, today might of been shit or living hell or the worst day ever, but the sun always sets at the end of the day. It was like it was saying we get another day. Another chance.”

Bill bit his lip. Maybe if he thought like Eddie when he was at home, things wouldn’t have been so bad. Most of the time, all he thought about was that Georgie would never get another chance. Unless they found him. But his parents only spoke to Bill to remind him that Georgie was dead and Bill didn’t have the heart to tell them that he knew! Somewhere, deep down, he knew. Maybe he always had. Clinging onto hope is only so good if you can live while doing it. But Bill had put his whole life on hold when Georgie disappeared. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could hardly get up. It was as if every single day was a waiting game. Fresh days didn’t mean a new chance for Bill. It just reminded him that it was another day Georgie.

But looking at the sun now, watching the hazy circle disappear beyond the sea, Bill saw hope all over it. Because yes, Georgie was gone, but he’d made it this far. And he hadn’t made it alone.

Maybe that’s what mattered. You could be climbing a mountain or swimming with dolphins but all that really counted was whether or not you were alone. Because if you were with friends, actual friends who stuck with you through anything, then it would be worth it.

People rely a lot on people. It was just a fact. Every emotion Bill had ever felt in his life was because of someone. What they had said or what they had done. But the people who made him feel so alive he thought he’d explode were six people who were laying next to him right now.

Bottom line was, Bill had hope. Too much hope. Too much hope and too little people. But it was different now. Now, he had people who cared for him and loved him and had hope in him.

That made the most difference.

“I wish I could draw this.” Bev said softly. “With all the colours.”

“If I ever learnt how to paint, the first thing I’d do would be coming up here.” Mike said. His right leg was crossed over Stan’s but Stan didn’t seem to mind.

“Things like this make me want to write until my hands fall off.” Ben said.

“Something about this mu-makes me feel so alive.” Bill said, barely stuttering. “It didn’t before but it does now.”

“It feels like we’re the only people here.” Richie said.

“Here on the earth or just here?” Bev asked, propping her head up on her hand.

“Dunno.” Richie said. “But it does feel that way. We’re the only people who need to be here.”

Need.

Bill took Bev’s hand and squeezed it gently. She turned and smiled at him, her eyes sparkling in the dying light.

Then, Bev turned around and took Ben’s hand. Ben broke his view from the sun to glance at her, then he took Eddie’s hand. Eddie took Richie’s, who took Mike’s, who took Stan’s, until all seven of them were connected.

The sun was just a sliver now, letting out a brilliant orange light.

If anyone was watching North Tower, they would of seen seven people, laying down, hands clasped together in a line. The golden light was illuminating them, and they almost didn’t look real.

But no one was watching them. Every student and teacher was in their beds. The whole world could of been asleep.

Like Richie said, they were the only people there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHiS wIlL bE a sLoW bUrN


	27. Quite A Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s finally the time for the fateeeeeee

**Mike Hanlon, looking out the common room window**  
“That’s their car!” Emily squealed from the common room window, turning and racing out of the room.

“How long has it been?” Richie asked.

“Two minutes since you last asked.” Mike joked light heartedly. Richie didn’t look any less stressed.

The Fate was today, and all morning Richie had been worried his parents wouldn’t show up. The Losers each tried to reassure him that they would come and see what he’d done, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good. Mike hardly ever saw Richie’s emotions are raw as this. He usually hid it up.

But today Richie seemed too nervous to be discreet. Mike wanted to remind Richie that his parents came last half term, but he knew all too well that it was hard to think logically when you were worried.

Mike wasn’t all so calm himself. The Fate was going to kick start with a brief assembly to the parents from Mrs Wilson, immediately followed by the sports tournaments. Mike was going in with his team to play lacrosse and Stan had a swim race line up.

Mike, who normally took everything in his stride, couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous at the thought of his parents watching. It was their idea to send him to Whitemore and, apart from how he originally felt, Mike knew coming was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He desperately wanted to make his parents proud.

“Here!” Richie cried in triumph, and dashed from the window. Mike glanced out and sure enough, the Tozier’s light blue care was pulling up.

“Wu-wu-wait u-up!” Bill cried, dashing after him. Richie had invited Bill to spend the day with his family, when Bill wasn’t busy with the play. His parents hadn’t showed up last term and he highly doubted they’d come this time. Equally, Bev was spending the day with Stan’s Mum and Dad. Considering they were both working on the bake sale, Stan said he really wanted her to meet his parents instead of spending the day alone. Bev agreed instantly.

“Mike, are I think that’s your parents.” Chloe said, from her space by the window. Mike looked out and gasped in excitement. His parents were waking up the drive, arm in arm.

“Eddie.” Mike spun to his friend quickly. “If you want, just come and find me, okay? My parents will be happy for you to join us.”

Eddie smiled meekly but shook his head. “My mum won’t allow it. But thank you, Mike. It means a lot.”

Mike nodded before sprinting out of the common room, talking the stairs two steps at a time. He skidded around the corner and crashed out of the door, running the length of the field in record breaking time.

“Mum! Dad!” He cried.

“Mikey!” Will said, enveloping Mike into a hug. Mike rested his head against his fathers chest and breathed in his familiar scent.

“God Mike, you’ve grown.” His Mum said once Mike broke apart. She squeezed him quickly then glanced around. “God William, it seems like only yesterday we were here.”

“Ah, yes.” Will said fondly. “I remember the midnight walks by the pool and the making out by the-“

“Enough!” Mike said curtly. What he did not need was a full blown description of his parents hooks up ten minutes before his Lacrosse tournament.

A loud sound blared that instant, and the yard fell silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my pleasure to welcome you to Whitemore.” Mrs Wilson said, speaking from the doors of the school with a megaphone. “Please find yourselves seats on the bleachers by the lacrosse field for a few minutes while our students get ready. I will speak you through today’s event while we wait.”

She stopped speaking and the movement around Mike resumed again, people turning around, children hurrying to where they needed to be.

“That’s me.” Mike said, giving both his parents a quick hug.

“Do us proud, Son.” Will said as Mike departed.

“Always.” Mike yelled.

He joined the babble of students entering the changing rooms and flung his bag onto a peg by the showers. Stan pushed in a few seconds later, and quickly wove his way to Mike.

“Say, my parents are about to adopt Bev.” Stan grinned, hanging his bag up.

“She talking a thousand miles an hour, I guess.” Mike said.

“Along with both my parents.” Stan said. “My whole Bar Mitzvah experience has been re told start to finish.”

“Man.” Mike laughed.

“Anyway, are your parents happy to see you?” Stan asked.

“No, ever so disappointed.” Mike said seriously.

Stan smacked Mike with his shirt, and Mike ducked backwards, almost knocking into a West boy.

“Yes, they’re happy.” Mike said one he’d balanced himself. “It’s bringing back memories, though. I’m going to need to be careful.”

They finished getting dressed and Mike promised to see Stan’s race before darting out of the changing rooms and to the field. Half the players was already there, Greta pulling her hair into a messy bun and Eric doing some aggressive lunges.

The sheet that had been put up a week ago showed that North and East would be playing against West and South. Mike and Eric would be playing from North while Greta, Alison and Chloe would be taking East’s roles.

Mike had played with them in practice and, as far as he was aware, they were the strongest lacrosse players he’d ever seen. In the past practices, they’d all assembled their own roles and played a solid game, passing without fault.

Mike scanned the crowded and saw his parents faces. He waved frantically, before picking up his lacrosse stick and practicing some stretches.

He took heavy yoga breaths Stan was always doing and rolled his arms over his head, trying to stay calm. Once the whistle blew and he began running up and down the field, he knew all his thoughts would be left behind. He just needed to focus on staying calm before the game.

Soon, everyone was on the pitch. South and West were at the far end and North and East at the opposite. Everyone was talking lightheartedly and the sun had come out, making it pleasantly warm. Mike talked with Eric as the final parents found seats. Eric smoothing voice calmed Mike slightly, and his breath started to fall back to its normal pace.

Finally, everyone was ready and Mr Vally called everyone to their starting positions.

“Up now, First years North and East against West and South.”

A cheer broke out in the bleachers and Mike lined up, his heart now banging on his chest. He bent his knees slightly, gripping his stick like it was a lifeline.

“On my whistle.” Mr Vally said. “Three, two..”

A shrill toot blew out and Mike ran to the side as Alison sprinted towards the ball, her lacrosse stick held up.

She reached it and swept it up, doing a quick spin as she swung the ball Mike’s way.

Mike caught it quickly and ran as fast as he could, his only thought getting to the other end of the pitch. Someone from East was heading towards his quickly, and Mike half ducked as he shot the ball to Eric, who caught it perfectly.

He was about to head to the goal when the same East girl tackled him and swiped the ball.

Chloe went in for a tackle. Cheers were exploding from the crowd but to Mike it was all a blur. He was completely and utterly focused on the match, calculating every move he took.

The game played on for twenty five minutes, fierce and strong. The five seemed to share a mind, pasting swiftly and darting around the pitch. Both teams were on Two-Two and there was only three minutes left to play.

The whistle blew and both teams huddled, breathing heavily.

“We’re all doing well.” Eric said to them. “We can totally win this.”

“They don’t play as connected as we do.” Alison said. “If we separate them, we have an easy shot at the goal.”

“Play to your strength, guys.” Chloe said.

“Pass whenever you have to.” Mike said. “And make them quick.”

Mr Vally blew his whistle again and the teams separated, moving to lineup. Mike flexed his legs, mapping out the pitch in his mind. West and South were good but he knew they were better. They just needed to play like they never had before.

“Three.” Greta swung her lacrosse stick over her back.

“Two.” Eric bent down.

“One.” Mike took in a deep breath and let the noises fall into the background.

The whistle blew.

Mike bolted down the field without a second though, dodging the other team. He spun around and watched Alison pass to Greta. Greta spun was out of no where, a member of West came up from behind her and tackled her.

Greta swayed her stick but he knocked it out. The boy started to run to the other end but Mike was already one it. He was fast, way faster than the person in West, and over took him easily.

He went in for a tackle and swiped the ball into the air. In the blink of a eye, he caught the ball in his neck and ran back along the pitch.

He pasted in a flash, darting left to right. He skidded to a stop. The goal was too far for Mike to be sure to get it in. He gave the field a sweeping look and aimed at Greta.

She caught it swiftly and was across the field. In a few seconds, she stopped. There was still a large gap between her and the goal and Mike wouldn’t of dared shoot. But Greta did.

She pulled back and swung, the ball flying from her net.

Time seemed to freeze. All Mike saw was the red ball traveling. It zoomed in a straight line, then landed in the net.

Mike screamed. Cheers erupted from the stands. He ran over to Greta, throwing his arms around her. Soon, everyone else in his team followed, yelling and laughing loudly. A whistle was blown somewhere.

“North and East win!”

“You scored the winning goal, Greta.” Mike said into Alison’s shoulder.

“You say it like its hard.” Greta said, but she was grinning wider than Mike had ever seen.

“Off the pitch, off the pitch!” Mr Vally called. Me jogged over to them, smile plastered on his face.

“How did we do?” Eric asked, worming out of their five people hug.

“Excellent.” Mr Valley said. “I must be a great trainer.”

Alison swatted him away and Mike laughed.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but maybe we can get some chips as a prize for winning.” Mr Vally said in a low voice.

“Yes!” Chloe first bumped the air.

“Now go and watch the swim tournament.” Mr Vally said, and headed away.

Mike picked up his stick, running off the field with his teammates. They all headed over to the pool, arms swung around each other and singing Don’t Stop Me Now at the top of their voices. Eric’s lacrosse stick hit Mike’s cheek every few seconds but Mike didn’t even care. It felt like someone had blown up a balloon inside him. He couldn’t stop grinning and grinning and he didn’t even care that he probably looked stupid. He was happy and they’d won and that was all that really mattered.

They split to find their parents when they got to the pool, holding their lacrosse sticks above their heads as to not hit anyone.

Mike caught sight of his parents and shimmed across the seats until he reached them. He sat down, smiling like a complete lunatic.

“You did brilliant Mike!” Jessica said, reaching across his father to shake his shoulder.

“I knew you could do it, Mike.” Will said.

Mike laughed. It was the only thing he could do.

Mrs Wilson called for silence and the swimmers lined up as she explained who was swimming. Mike saw Stan and waved frantically. Stan waved back, a smile big enough to match his.

“That your friend?” His Mom asked, tilting towards Stan.

“Yep.” Mike said, making a note to introduce his parents to every single on of the Losers. “Stan Uris.”

“Uris?” His Dad asked loudly.

“Yes.” Mike blinked. “Do you... know him?”

“Oh, no.” Will said. “I just got mixed up.”

Mike leaned back in his seat, rolling his shoulders. After a few minutes, the swimmers were off.

Stan dived in perfectly, swimming across the water like he was made to. His arms moved gracefully and Mike felt sure he’d loose his voice from all the screaming he was doing.

But he didn’t care.

Because he was sitting by his parents on a warm May day, watching his best friend win his swim race. And things couldn’t of been better.

 **Ben Hanscom, backstage before the show**  
“This is happening.” Ben said. “Holy shit, this is happening!”

“C-c-calm down, m-man.” Bill said.

Both him and Bill were alone on the stage, going over last minute things before the play. It was almost one, and parents and students would watch the play before eating lunch the cooks (and Bev and Stan) had prepared.

For the past weeks, Ben and Bill had worked endlessly to make sure the production of Follis was flawless. Luckily, Whitemore‘ upper Drama students were amazingly talented, able to memorise lines within a day. They were always ready to help with whatever Ben and Bill were doing, sharing their advice on how to staging and lighting. And, what’s more, Ben had enjoyed it. The students taking too year Drama were friendly and more than once, Ben and Bill had stayed behind to eat food on the stage, playing cards and charades.

But now that the curtains were set to go up in fifteen minutes, hundreds of things were flooding into Ben’s mind that he should of done in the last weeks. The outfits weren’t the exact colour, the lights should be at a different angle, a certain line should be changed-

Ben’s mind rambled and rambled on and all Ben could do was pace across the back stage.

“And the starting music should be piano, has to be piano, Bill can you play piano?”

“N-n-no.” Bill said, standing up. “And s-stop p-p-pa-pacing, it’s mu-making me d-d-dizzy.”

Ben stopped, sighing deeply. “Sorry.” He said, letting his arms dropped to his sides.

“It’s cu-cu-cool.” Bill said. “W-w-wanna r-run through t-the vu-vu-visuals?”

“Sure.” Ben said, thinking any distraction would be a good one.

They both walked the side, with hanging ropes and a lighting panel. Bill flopped down on a swivel chair, immediately regretting his choice as the chair began spinning violently.

“It’s a fate, not a theme park.” Ben joked, trying to shake his nerves off. He plonked down next to Bill and reached for their copies of the script, passing one to Bill.

“Okay.” Ben said, flicking it open. He read the first directions out loud and Bill flipped a few switches. The lights in front of the curtains shone, and Bill let out a little whoop.

“Okay.” Ben said, leaning over to the other side of the panel. “Then it needs to get dark again when everyone has been introduced so...”

He pressed down on a button and the lights slowly faded away.

“S-s-see?” Bill said. “G-got this i-in the b-b-bag.”

Ben exhaled slowly and they continued. All in all, Ben was surprised at how well it was going. Him and Bill had made quite a few adjustments to the script and storyline. At the time, it was a risk, and when the curtains went up Ben would probably think it was a mistake. But now, when his mind wasn’t clouded with worries, Ben could appreciate it.

Him and Bill were reading the lines in over dramatic voices as they make the the changes to lights.

“God, I shall miss this place!” Bill cried in a grand British accent, jumping up and knocking his chair back.

“Calm it, Theodore!” Ben shouted dramatically, then fell down laughing.

Bill grinned and continued with a large monologue. Ben noticed, with some surprise, that Bill didn’t stutter once. Not when he was being someone else. Maybe that meant something. Or maybe, it didn’t.

“We have to draw the curtains for half time.” Ben said, reading off his script.

“Yu-yu-you know hu-how to d-d-do t-that?” Bill asked, hands on hips.

“Not a clue.” Ben said breezily. He marched over to the thicc ropes like he knew what he was doing and untied it. Bill moved over to the curtains and inspected them.

“I thu-thu-think i-its the s-s-se-second r-rope.” Bill reported.

“Gotcha.” Ben said. He tried to pull the rope but it wouldn’t budge. He hugged his arms around it and jumped up, applying all his weight on it. Still, nothing happened.

Ben pushed his legs out and let them touch the floor again. He bent down and looked at the ropes. They looked fine, just a bit stiff. Ben grabbed the knot and heaved and, suddenly, it came undo. The rope fell down and a loud scream run out behind him.

“Bill?” Ben said, spinning around. The heavy, red curtains were now up, letting Ben see out into the stage. Bill however, was no where in sight.

“Bill?” Ben repeated.

“Bu-bu-ben!”

“Holy shit you’re invisible.” Ben said spinning around.

“N-no dumba-ass, l-l-look up!”

Ben did so, gasping. Bill had, somehow, got himself caught up in the curtain. He was gripping onto the fold at the bottom, almost like a hammock.

Ben had really never noticed how high the ceiling was before now. The theatre had been designed to have a gothic theme, which included the cathedral inspired roof. Whenever they were rehearsing, it was helpful because their voices would echo and they didn’t need to scream their lungs out trying to be heard. But looking at it now, Ben wished the builders had gone for a low roof style.

“How-“ Ben said, staring in disbelief.

“I w-was s-s-standing o-on the c-cu-curtain.” Bill said, his face hanging over slightly. “I-it moved and uh... I f-f-fell.”

“But-“ Ben said, hardly keeping up with what Bill was saying. How on earth could Bill of gotten stuck in the curtains? That wasn’t even a worst case scenario! And the play was set to start in five minutes!

“Oh God, oh God, oh God-“ Ben resembled his pacing with a shaky voice.

“B-b-ben-“

“Oh God oH GOD OH-“

“B-b-ben can y-you-“

“EVERYBODY JUST STAY CALM OKAY?” Ben yelled.

“B-b-ben!” Bill shouted from his position, laying on the layered part of the curtain.

“WHAT?” Ben yelled back, in a perfectly calm and dignified manner.

“C-can you lu-lu-lower it?”

Taking deep breaths, Ben spun around. The rope used to pull the curtains up was in a pile. It became apparent pretty quickly that Ben could not use it to lower Bill back down. Which meant...

“There’s another rope.” Ben said.

“W-w-what?”

“Another rope, there’s another rope for lowering the curtains!”

Bill squinted from his position in the air. “B-b-but there’s l-like fu-fu-fifty r-ropes?”

“Exactly!” Ben said. He looked up at the ropes cross crossing on the ceiling and slumped down next to the wall, feeling overwhelmed. Bill was trapped up there! He could fall and die or they could break the curtains and if he broke the curtains then Mrs Wilson would stop the play and they wouldn’t raise money and Richie would be so disappointed-

“I’m pressing the fire alarm.” Ben said, getting to his feet shakily.

“W-w-what!”

“iM PRESSING THE FIRE ALARM!” Ben shouted, taking steps towards it.

“N-NO!”

“YES!”

“B-B-BEN, NO!”

“AHHHH.” Ben fell to the floor again, his heart racing. He had to get Bill down, or it would be their fault the Fate didn’t raise the money the school needed. But how-

“I’m g-gonna r-r-roll off.”

Ben leapt to his feet. “Excuse you what now?”

“R-r-rolling off.” Bill said. Ben saw him do aggressive mini flops on the curtain, trying to face himself upright. Ben also saw the drop from the curtain to the stage.

“Bill, we need to alive for the play!” Ben cried up at him.

Bill continued to flop.

“Bill we all love you and, and if you die the losers club will never be the same and we’ll all probably drift apart and end up homeless or, or like eaten Bill you can’t do this Bill, think of Bev think of how much she means to you if you roll you’ll never see her again you’ll never kiss her again Bill please just don’t-“

“I’m s-s-sorry.” Bill said, now completely on his back. “It m-m-must be done.”

“Bill!” Ben screamed.

“Ben!”

The door to the backstage was open and at the door was Matron. She was looking at Ben with an startled expression and Ben suddenly regretted not being quieter.

“What’s going on here?” She asked, taking a few slow steps in.

“Uh-“ Ben said.

“H-h-hello.”

Matron looked up for the first time and gave a little startled scream. “Good grift, what on earth are doing up there-?”

“I g-g-got s-st-stuck.” Bill said, his head twisted so he could see Matron.

Matron started at him in silence for a good ten seconds before walking over to the jungle of ropes. She took a hold of one, wrapped it around her hand and yanked it.

The curtains came tumbling down, Bill in the midsts on it.

“aAAHH-“

“Bill!” Ben screamed, running towards the curtains. Bill poked his head from the marital and gave Ben a smile.

“I’m g-g-good.”

Ben laughed, then hugged Bill, his heart still racing.

“Ahem.”

Both boys span around. Matron was standing at their lighting panel, her eyebrows raised. But Ben swore he could see her eyes twinkle.

“Now, if you don’t mind I think you should probably get ready. The play starts in one minute.”

“Y-yes Matron.” Ben stammered, helping Bill up.

Matron nodded her head at them then left.

Ben and Bill stood their in silence for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened.

“C-c-can we d-do that again?”

An hour later and the play was a raging success. Each actor and actress was taking their bows to a large audience of parents and students, and Ben felt so suddenly proud of him and Bill he started to well off.

Alyssa took back into the stage. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.” She said. “But let’s not forget to give a massive round of applause to the brilliant directors, Ben Hanscom and Bill Denbrough!”

Ben gasped in shock, before him and Bill were being pushed onto the stage to take a bow.

And while Ben was doing it, looking out a the amount of people clapping, he knew it had all been worth it.

 

**Eddie Kaspbrak, getting ready for the Fashion Show**

“Right this is it this is happening.” Eddie muttered to himself absentmindedly as he stuck a third layer of DIY tape on the cardboard cut outs of trees. He reached for the scissors on the side and came to the realisation there weren’t any there. “Scissors, where the fuck- Who took my scissors?! My arm is gonna fall off!”

Nobody moved.

“Jesus Christ if this breaks I’m blaming all of you.” Eddie murmured, attempting to rip the tape with his fingers.

“Anne if you don’t pass me those scissors on the table I will personally cut you from the fashion show and take your place.” Eddie threatened and Anne quickly passed up the scissors.

“Jesus its just a fashion show, take a pill.” Anne rolled her eyes. Eddie left is face expressionless, his mind the opposite. Maybe just when he thought the thunderous clouds were clearing into a bright sunshine of happiness, the sun never meant happiness at all. Maybe it just was another version of his mother’s words but in a different form. It was burning at his skin, blinding his eyes-

“Think you’ve got enough tape there buddy.” Mike returned from watching Stan’s swim meet with his calming smile and happy eyes. Was it burning?

“Oh, right.” Eddie blinked as if he were just walking up from a nightmare. That was all it was. A nightmare. He cut the tape and stepped off the stool, mind setting its track back to the task at hand. “So, did you win?”

“Oh easily.” Mike chuckled, pretending to flip his hair Greta style. “Anyway, we have a show to put on.”

“Correct. I just hope we raise enough money.” Eddie huffed a laugh nervously. The show had to be perfect. It had to raise enough money. He certainly didn’t want to let down Whitemore, but above all, he didn’t want to let down Richie. He’d put so much work into making sure everything was perfect, and if Eddie didn’t pull that off, it would be his his fault. Was it just a nightmare?

He couldn’t think about that now. This was no time for one of his annoying panic attacks that seemed to raid his whole brain and take over his entire body. He took a deep breath, and strode over to Patty who was currently struggling with tying up her shirt into a crop top. “Not like that,” he took the hair tie and twirled the shirt fabric around his finger and tied it up. “You’re gonna break your finger if you do it like that. And Mike?”

“Yeah?” Mike called from painting the last finishing touches of a tiger’s face onto Alison’s face.

“You did a great job on the face paints.” Eddie mind was now completely occupied with sorting out last minute costumes and shoes. “Patty stop scratching your forehead the paint’s coming off!”

Ten minutes until the show started. Ten minutes was all they had. Eddie flew around the small backstage area they had, sticking leaves to peoples’ shoes, constantly losing his tape measure so just cutting fabric sleeves based on how he wanted them to look, tripping over his shoe laces at least twice because he really didn’t have the time or patience to bend down and tie them. All in all, a pretty relaxed ten minutes.

“The show will be starting in two minutes, adults please take your seats.” Mike said formally through a megaphone, peaking over the folding screens.

Adrenaline hit Eddie like a shot. “Anne you’re on first, then Eric, then Greta-“

“I’m third! Uh, actually I think I should be going first. They deserve to see pure beauty first.” Greta cut Eddie off, pushing unholy amounts of hair grips into her hair. Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and hit back.

“Well in that case I should go first, but sadly I’m not in the running, so live with it!” Eddie whisper-yelled at Greta and continued to go through the order again. “Whoever has got the zebra ears or tiger ears and has returned, please give it to any person who has that outfit theme. It really isn’t that difficult to identify them.”

“You guys ready?” Mike hissed to Eddie from ducking under the folding screen. Eddie nodded and gave two thumbs up. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, your show is about to commence.”

“Wait, shit, music!” Eddie suddenly remembered.

“-commence in five minutes.” Mike quickly covered. He bent back down again. “Ok uh, Eddie go to the common room and drag out the record player. If you need any help grab Stan from the changing rooms, ok?”

“Thanks Mike!” Eddie was already almost half way down the field and hopped into the building. He shot up three stairs at a time, nearly tripping over the final step, and launching himself into the common room. “Ok how do I hold this thing.” He unplugged a few switches he had no idea connected to what and just started to lift it up. As soon as Eddie had some weight under it, it slipped and dropped back down hard onto his fingers. “Ow! Fucking piece of SHIT!”

“Eddie?” Stan’s muffled voice floated from outside the common room.

“Yeah uh could use a little help right now.” Eddie has struggled his hands from out of the way more heavier than necessary turn table and blew on his slowly inflaming hands.

“Why are your fingers beetroot red?” Stan asked as he entered the room.

“I stuck them in red paint.” Eddie deadpanned. “What do you think? Now please help me carry this to the stage. I have about four minutes.”

He and Stan took both corners of the record player and carried it carefully down the stairs. “Have you got it? I need to open the door.” Stan said. Eddie nodded and immediately felt an increase of weight upon his arms, sighing as they walked through the door and giving some back to Stan.

Once they arrived they placed it on the table. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you have no where to plug it in.” Stan said. Eddie could’ve flopped to the floor and stayed there.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Richie peeked around the folding screen. “Everything alrighty?”

“Um. We have a little problem.” Mike said, his hand covering the speaker of the megaphone.

“We realised there was no music and so we went to get the record player and then it dropped on my fingers but, like, that’s irrelevant and so luckily Stan was there to help me and so we got it here and that was one hurdle down but then we realised there was no where to plug it in so we’re a bit screwed.” Eddie rambled quickly with barely any breaths.

“Ah.” Richie said.

“We could get an extension lead?” Eric suggested from standing in the line.

“Do those things even exist?” Mike asked.

Eric shrugged. “I dunno I read it in a book somewhere.”

“Helpful.” Eddie snapped.

“Guys we have two minutes now.” Mike informed. “I say we just ask a teacher for an extension lead, it’s better than nothing.”

“Yes but extend it to where?” Stan pointed out.

Richie snapped his fingers. “Back door, literally just around that corner. I’m almost sure there is a plug socket just behind the door.”

“How do you know that?” Eddie asked him.

“What can I say? I’m observant-“

“There is a lamp just next to the door, meaning there is probably a plug near by.” Stan cut Richie off.

“Ok right Eddie, you go get a teacher and me and Stan will position the turn table as close to the back door as possible.” Mike said and Eddie nodded. He ran to the closest teacher he could find, who happened to be a cook, and fire the question as quick as he could.

“Um, yes actually, for the kettle. Why?” She asked him.

“Thanks!” Eddie didn’t have to time or breath to reply and raced into the canteen, back into the kitchen, and indeed found the extension cord. “Huh, these things do exist.” He unplugged it from the kettle and socket and returned to the stage as quickly as he could. “Ok,” he returned to Richie, out of breath entirely.

“Jeez Eds you took like thirty seconds.” Richie leant his elbow on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Which is great, since we have under a minute left.” Mike took the cord from Eddie and plugged it into the record player’s lead.

“This better reach now.” Stan threaded it round the corner of the wall and into the back door, out of sight.

Eddie held his breath. “For the love of god please work.” He whispered. A minute later Stan returned with a thumbs up and Eddie heard just about everybody sigh in relief.

“Right, let’s get this finger-crushing music-making thing to work!” Richie clapped.

“I think the term ‘record player’ is what you are looking for.” Stan corrected.

“Right again, Stan the Man.” Richie winked at Eddie.

“The show is now commencing... but like actually this time.” Mike spoke through the megaphone. Stan put the needle on the record that was currently in there, since they’d forgotten to actually get any records, and Eddie hoped it wasn’t some Christmas themed shit. Funnily enough, Africa by Toto came playing out of the speakers of the turn table.

“Whatever you do guys don’t fall and smile. Smile constantly but not creepily!” Eddie hissed. “Oh and have fun out there! The stage is your oyster!” The eight models, turn by turn, strutted down the runway.

“Very inspirational Eds, spoken like a true leader.” Richie smiled either proudly or smugly, Eddie couldn’t tell.

“Yeah well I learnt from the best.” Eddie grinned mischievously.

“Aw Eds, really? Because all I ever say is fuck shit up and have fun while doing it.”

“I mean I didn’t exactly have you in mind but I guess so.” Eddie shrugged, getting a playful, yet gentle, nudge from Richie.

The last model had finally walked back up to backstage, perfectly in time with the end of Africa by Toto, and Mike’s megaphone chimed in again.

“Thank you,” Mike said over the clapping parents and a few students. “Thank you, we hoped you enjoyed this production, but before all of you disperse, please give one last round of applause for the main man of this show: Eddie Kaspbrak!”

Eddie jolted at the sound of his name and looked at Mike in alarm. Richie picked a daisy off the ground and tucked it gently behind his ear.

“Work it, the stage is yours.” Richie grinned widely and Eddie stepped onto the stage. Suddenly a bright white light shone on top of Eddie and he looked to Mike who seemed to be hovering a torch beam over him.

“A spotlight!” He didn’t think he could smile any wider. Eddie waved once and hopped back off stage to where mike was standing and took the megaphone. “Ah yes but we cannot forget Mike Hanlon over here! Big round of applause everybody!”

Once everybody had left their seats, everyone gave each other either high fives or hugs, or both. “Well done everybody, you all did great and we couldn’t have done it without you.” Eddie said to them all. He walked over to Mike and gave him a great big hug. “And thank you Mike, I cant believe you actually did the spotlight.”

“Eh you were going on about it so much I had too.” Mike teased.

“So Richie, did we raise enough money?” Eddie turned to Richie.

“I’m almost certain. Well done guys.” Richie hugged them both, and quieter, just so them two could hear, he said, “thanks guys.”

Eddie didn’t know what he was thinking earlier. Of course the clear blue skies and candy floss clouds were happy, and the sun wasn’t burning at his flesh. He was fine. He was ok. He stopped himself from having a panic attack and he was sort of proud. They did it.

And in his opinion, the show was perfect.

 

**Stan Uris, at the Bake Stall with Beverly Marsh**

Were the cakes perfect? No. Were the pastries perfect? Not even close. Did they taste like Jamie Oliver had flew over from where ever he was and whip them up himself? Bit of a stretch, but yes, Stan could reach that far into saying.

“Bev stop eating the cakes or there’ll be none left for anybody else.” Stan said, restraining from eating one of the pastries that laid right in front of him himself.

“Bu’ they tashe sho goofd!” Bev cried through her mouthful.

“Lovely. Just saw every ingredient we mixed, in your mouth.” Stan replied dryly, still grinning.

“Sorry, we did an amazing job at these though.” Bev chuckled. “Even if we did almost lose a finger trying to make them.”

“Don’t remind me, I had dreams about that for the next two days.” Stan said grimly.

“Nightmares huh?” Bev raised her eyebrows, wiping some of the frosting of the cake she’d just eaten onto the table mat.

“No, pretty good dreams.” Stan teased, getting a hit off Beverly with a table cloth. “Think we should open this up?”

“Don’t you think selling one cupcake for three dollars is a bit much?” Bev checked the prices doubtfully.

“For the way they’re tasting? Should be five dollars minimum if you ask me.” Stan replied curtly. Bev nodded and turned the sign they’d made which had ‘Closed! Late, ya weir-dough.’ And flipped it to ‘Open! You Rised to the occasion I see.’ Stan sighed as he read the signs. “Who let Richie write these again?”

“Roll up roll up! The time has come to open the bake sale where everything is over priced and you probably won’t even get the right change!” Bev yelled to her surroundings, quickly being shh’ed by Stan.

“She’s, she’s kidding! Change will be precise! Probably.” He whispered the last part so only Bev could hear, making her wheeze quietly.

Sooner or later a few adults came along and purchased the bakes Stan and Bev had winged at making and getting, might I add, the correct change. “That would be five dollars please.” Stan smiled sweetly at a woman who was asking to buy two pastries.

“Five dollars?” She asked in shock. “But the price tag says one dollar.”

Stan widened his eyes at Bev, who shrugged and continued to sell another cupcake. “Uh, that, that is because that’s from a different category.” Stan nodded. “Darn, guess we set it up wrong.”

“Well, I don’t think any of these deserve to be this expensive in my opinion.” The lady scoffed, threw the pastries back down onto the table, and walked away.

“That explains why you only buy cheap ass sunglasses!” Bev caught the last of the conversation and yelled to the woman who was now almost out of sight.

“How’s it going swashbucklers?” Richie strolled over to their stand and leant his hand on the table.

“Well we’ve learnt that some people don’t have manne-“

“fIVE DOLLARS?!” Richie cut Stan off, staring at the price tag.

“-rs Yes fIve dollars. You indeed have the ability to read. I applaud you.” Stan said flatly.

“Five dollars.” Richie repeated.

“Yes?” Bev came over from selling another person a chocolate bun.

“Give me a pen.” Richie walked to where Bev and Stan were standing.

“Oh god what are you doing?” Stan mental face palmed himself. He looked at Bev who just shrugged and had the face that said: ‘just step back and see what the fuck happens’.

“Can’t believe you’re selling this stuff for only five dollars.” Richie muttered to himself as he scribbled out the neat ‘$5’ sign Stan had written and changed it to ‘$7.50’.

“Richie no one’s gonna buy this for seven dollars fifty.” Stan shook his head.

“Eh lighten up you’ve got customers comin’ your way this very second.” Richie turned to the crowded field. “Everyone! Cakes and pastries are now half price!”

Sure enough, a few adults came strolling over, widening their eyes as they caught the price.

“Half price?” A man said doubtfully.

“Yes indeed sir,” Stan nodded. “1 over 2. HaAAH SHIT.” Stan went to lean his hand casually on the table but missed and dropped straight down onto the slightly heated grass. “..ow.”

“Well at least we can say we’ve both fallen for baking now.” Bev laughed and hauled Stan up by the hand.

“Can say that again.” Stan brushed down off the remaining strands of grass the stuck to his shorts.

“At least you can say you’ve both fallen for baking n-“

“Richie Shut the fuck up.” Stan groaned in the way of just hearing somebody saying the worst pun you could ever think of. Stan looked down at the open and closed sign. He could think of a few.

But this time, Stan didn’t feel like he wanted to scribble out or rub out or scrap the whole piece of paper and toss it in a bin. It didn’t matter. Yes they were corny- no pun intended, fuck not again, but he didn’t care. He would never allow himself in saying anything of the sort of him actually tolerating Richie’s jokes and puns but he thought without him and then and the whole of the losers club, Stan assumed his life would be as boring as it was. He never dreamed of meeting even one friend let alone six.

But maybe he needed to stop dwelling on his past self. After all, he had a future to look forward to. And maybe the ‘maybes’ of his life would become certainties.

“Richie I fucking told you no one is going to buy these for seven dollars!”

“Look someone is literally coming right now.”

“They are walking the other direction!”

“It’s Opposite Day!”

“There isn’t such th- you know what, yes, yes they are walking this way Richie. Why was I so goddamned blind before?”

Yes, certainties.

 

**Richie Tozier, after the Fate had finished, on Whitemore’s lawns**

He couldn’t quite believe how well all of this fate was working. It’s like pretty much every single idea that he’d pictured in his head (not all of them because even Richie accepted it would be a tad difficult to have a rollercoaster installed in their school field) had been transferred out of it and into real life.

Mike and Eddie’s fashion show couldn’t have gone any better. Richie, in all fairness, did forget he was actually meant to be collecting money as the adults sat down so he probably lost like, two dollars for that but in the end the amount of tips that were thrown in a hat that wasn’t even supposed to be there made up for it.

Ben and Bill’s play they’d starred in could quite literally be on the Broadway stage in New York. That’d definitely raise enough money. But they didn’t need to, Whitemore was broadway enough, and that had technically been proven since it’d raised over $500 dollars apparently.

Stan and Bev’s bake sale had went swimmingly.. no pun intended. Once he’d upped the prices a little bit as many came but when they did a lot of money was given, a win win Richie guessed. And he didn’t get too hard of a kick from Stan when he took the two cakes that looked the best out of all of them.

And above all, Richie was thankful for his friends. Without them he could never have helped raised the amount of money they did with ease. He’s just glad he hadn’t let Whitemore down.

“Richie? You ok buddy?” Wentworth Tozier patted Richie on the back, jolting him.

“Never been better.” Richie sighed, smiled, then decided to actually listen to the conversation going on around him.

“So, Bill here your only friend?” Wentworth grinned teasingly.

“Actually, we aren’t friends, he just tends to follow me around. How many times have a told you Billy?” Richie leant his elbow on Bill’s, though they were almost the same height now, getting a subtle flip off from Bill.

“S-sp-sp-speaking of friends, wh-where are th-they?” Bill shrugged Richie’s arm off him, looking far around the field.

“Well,” Richie scanned where Bill was looking. “There is Eddie, at Stan and Bev’s bake stand, and Ben is probably there as well, which means Mike is most definitely standing with them.”

“Did you make all those names up on the spot?” His dad joked, getting a light nudge from Maggie Tozier.

“E-eu-Eddie!” Bill called, waving his hand once he saw Eddie turn to him.

“Who are they Eddie?” Sonia spoke as they arrived at the bake stool. Richie’s eye twitched in almost anger.

“Richie Tozier, I’m sure you remember me, and my parents; Maggie and Wentworth.” Richie shook her hand willingly, seeing Eddie’s pleading look for him to stop. Sonia snatched her hand back and placed an overprotective arm around Eddie. Richie felt the sudden urge to actually remove her arm. He looked at Bill. He seemed to want to do the same.  
  
“B-b-b-Bill D-D-Denbrough.” Bill said through his teeth, forcing a grimace.

“Oh hey guys!” Bev said cheerfully, walking over to the newly formed group.

“This must be Bev.” Maggie smiled warmly, “I’m Maggie, this is Went.” She gestured at Richie’s dad.

“Spoken about me huh Richie?” Bev teased with a glint in her eye.

“Of course I have dear.” Richie blew a dramatic kiss and ran from Bill’s attempt at kicking him in the shin.

“So where are your parents?” Wentworth asked Beverly. Her smile dropped ever so slightly that only the losers could tell she even flinched.

“Oh, they couldn’t make it. Work and stuff you know?” She tucked her copper hair behind her ears.

Richie cleated his throat. “Aaaany way, that’s Stan with his parents and Mike and Ben with Mike’s parents.” Richie pointed in their direction and surprisingly got their attention.

“Where’s Ben parents?” Maggie asked.

“Oh my mum’s always busy with work. She couldn’t make it.” Ben explained, still smiling.

“This has turned into a meet and greet.” Eddie chuckled, Sonia’s hand tightening around his shoulder. His smile dropped, as did Richie’s.

“This the club you were talkin’ ‘bout Mike?” Will Hanlon smiled around the group.

“Sure is.” Mike nodded.

“Hi, Will Hanlon.” Mike’s dad shook Wentworth’s hand. “This is Jessica.”

“Will Hanlon.” Wentworth’s gaze crowded for a moment.

“That’s... my name?” Will’s eyebrows scrunched slightly. The losers shared a confused look.

“Yeah it just uh...” Richie’s dad scratched the back of his neck in thought.

“...dad?” Richie questioned him, staring up at him with a mix of concern and confusion.

He shook his head. “Nope, must be nothing. Just thought I remembered something but the old brain up there isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“Will’s quite a popular name, probably just met someone at some point.” Maggie explained and the conversation was back to normal again. All the adults, well bar Sonia, were chatting about what adults chat about; property values, jobs, vacuum cleaners they’d bought not a week ago.

But it was nice, Richie felt relaxed, happy even. All of the losers looked the same, but Richie just wished Eddie actually was. He didn’t deserve to have a mother like Sonia. He was worth so much more than that.

They all were. And he was glad they were his friends. He didn’t know what he’d do without them. Had he said that before? Probably. But the more you say something accidentally the more you mean it right? He decided that that was now a fact and he’d pull that on anybody now.

Long story short, Richie Tozier was thankful.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two more chapters left my peeps


	28. Strawberries And Cigarettes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last week at Whitemore

**Eddie Kaspbrak, the Dining Hall for breakfast**

Long story short, Eddie did not want to go back home. Even now just thinking about it at the breakfast table made Eddie lose his appetite immediately. His plain pale yellow walls with his chest of draws that had cut up bits of sponge on the corners that was pressed against it. His carpet that was most definitely too cushion like to be a carpet that laid on his floor incase he fell out of his bed or something along the lines of that. His double glasses window that could never break, barely being able to be lifted at least. Just none of it appealed to Eddie whatsoever.

He’d gotten used to walking up with the sun just lifting up off the horizon of the ocean, beams peaking through the curtains and highlighting Eddie’s face warmly. He’d gotten used to waking up to be surrounded by the majority of the losers club, sleeping soundly. He’d got used to waking up happy. But that’d all change in a week.

Eddie couldn’t believe it. Almost a whole school year had gone by as quick as Ben’s camera flashed to take a photo. A lot had changed since he first stepped off the train at Whitemore. He’d changed.

“You know, the idea is to eat the porridge, not swirl it around in the bowl until its just milk.” Stan pointed his spoon at Eddie’s bowl, smiling.

“A year at this place and lil Eddie spaghetti still hasn’t eaten all of his breakfast.” Richie grinned, scoffing half of his slice of toast in one mouthful.

“Rich I swear if you don’t quit calling me that spaghetti will be flying on to your face.” Eddie replied curtly, quickly realising what trap he’d got himself into. He sighed. “Beep beep Richie.”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Richie raised his voice in pitch in defence.

“You were going to.” Eddie said, probably smiling like a maniac.

“Girls and boys.” Mrs Wilson entered the cafeteria with a oddly big smile on her face. Probably because she only has one week left of being the headteacher of many many students until she gets a long, earned holiday, Eddie guessed.

“Oh god what have we done this time.” Bev sighed, audibly gearing herself up for whatever punishment was heading the first form’s way. To be fair she probably wasn’t wrong, they’d usual done something. Whether it was stealing a glue stick or losing a lacrosse ball in the hedge, it was probably the first form who’d done it.

“I’m pleased to announce that there will be a whole school photo for the yearbook today. You will each have individual photos, with your own special captions beneath them, then tower photos with a page spread underneath them to decorate to your wishes, then of course whole school. Once you’ve all finished your breakfast, please make your way to the field.” Mrs Wilson beamed and with that she headed out of the canteen and the room continued with its bustling chatter once again.

“You know what I’m most excited for?” Mike shoved his last spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

“W-w-what?” Bill asked, stealing a slice of toast off Ben’s plate.

“Reading what Richie puts as his caption.” Mike chuckled, giving pie- a piece of his toast in return from Bill taking his other bit.

“Sure you don’t want the soggy toast Mike?” Ben laughed, tearing it in half and taking a bit.

“See!” Eddie held his hand out to Ben. “Ben gets it!”

“Yeah, the only difference is; he’s eating it.” Stan said.

Once the losers had all somewhat finished their meals, they made their way to the school playing field. Once again the weather was blisteringly hot, but this time it made sense since it was June. Eddie looked around the field and could think of at least a million things that had happened on it. It had made memories that’s for sure. He smiled absentmindedly.

“Ok I would like fifth formers at the back, then forth in front, and so on. Please have your forms in the order North, East, South, West.” Mrs Wilson rattled off the list that was in front of her, having Matron sort the students in some sort of height order hat didn’t really make much sense to Eddie. Finally it was time for the first formers to come sit down at the front, kneeling down on their knees.

“Fuck OFF ANT!” Eddie flicked the ant off his leg, straight back onto the grass, watching it scuttle away into the undergrowth.

“Richie s-s-s-stop p-pulling ow-ow-out all of th-th-the g-grass.” Bill stifled his laugh as he watched Richie pull out all of the roots of the near by grass.

“Yeah but then I wouldn’t be able to do this.” Richie suddenly lifted his hand up and three a ball of grass at Bill’s head. Richie burst into laughter and the rest of the losers seemed to be failing to hide it themselves.

“R-Richie! It’s a-a-all stuck in m-my f-fucking hair!” Bill yelled and bent down to the grass himself. “S-so you w-wuh-w-wanna play th-that game huh?”

“Oh you’re on.” Richie challenged, and suddenly both boys started aggressively plucking at the grass and repeatedly launched it at eachother.

“Boys!” Matron came fussing over. “Immediately or you’ll be known as the grass heads in the first form.”

“She isn’t wrong.” Ben huffed a laugh, pulling out strands of grass from Richie’s hair, Mike doing the same with Bill’s.

After a few more minutes all the students were picture ready and the camera man started to count down from three. Eddie plastered a smile on his face.

A snap and a flash cane from the camera and everybody started to talk again.

“Not gonna lie I think that’s the longest Richie’s stayed quiet for.” Stan stated in a surprised manner.

“Ok now first form, North and East first, please make your way back to the canteen and get ready for your individual pictures and your towers pictures.” Mrs Wilson instructed. North and East towers heaved themselves up off their knees, groaning in the process.

“Can’t they just put a like blue back drop on a common room wall or something and just take the picture there?” Eddie complained as they trudged into the cafeteria for what felt like the tenth time that morning.

“Probably not big enough to hold very form of the school.” Ben pointed out.

“Well it would be separate times though.” Eddie said, giving up himself. There was no point in even considering it anyway.

“While you’re waiting for your pictures, be planning your message.” The camera man advised and turned to picture Buffy.

“Should I just put: failing is a natural talent of mine, what’s yours?” Stan suggested, writing it down on a scrap piece of paper in swirly writing.

“Would your mum be impressed by it?” Ben laughed.

“Immensely.” Stan deadpanned.

“Every cloud has a silver lining. Wow Eddie I cant work out if that is deep or inspiring.” Bev read out Eddie’s message he’d written down. He smiled and sighed. He thought to himself, there had to be a cloud to have some brightness to it. There had to be the bad or no one would know what good was. It’s like they were both connected, everything needed something. Everyone needed someone. And Eddie felt he needed the losers club. “So what are you guys doing?”

“I’ll figure it out later, we probably don’t have to do it straight away anyway. We have the whole day. Besides I must summon the brains within me.” Richie said, scribbling multiple lines through what he’d just written.

“S-s-s-same. But worry thee not, I shall have it in a jiffy!” Bill impersonated, losing his stutter.

“Next.” The camera man said irritably, calling one of the losers over. Eddie got up and sat on the stool. He once again stuck a smile onto his face.

Suddenly Richie started to speak just as the camera man was about to take the picture. “Spaghettiiiiiiiiii spaaaaaghettiiiiiiii.” He chanted and Eddie found it oddly funny, trying to stifle his chuckle but failing and ended up looking probably like a demon.

“Richie I look possessed in my picture thanks to you.” Eddie walked back over to the losers and sat down again.

“Eh, you looked to serious. I did you a favour.” Richie stood up this time and strolled confidently to the stool.

Now Eddie couldn’t help but smile. It was only, what, nine thirty in the morning and Eddie’s cheeks had already started hurting from smiling too much. He could tell it was going to be a good day.

He could feel it.

 

 **Ben Hanscom, waiting to go into assembly in the Hall**  
“I’m going to cry.”

“Eddie, you’re not going to cry.”

“If she mentions how we only have five days left, Bev, I’m crying.”

Ben laughed slightly dragging his eyes away from the Hall entrance to look at the Losers.

This was it, the final assembly of the year. And no matter how many times Ben reminded himself that he still had four more years after this, he couldn’t help but feel sad it was coming to an end. We it really a whole ten months ago when he was boarding the train here? It seemed like only a few days ago. But the time has come, and in two months, Ben would be back for his second year. He just had to make the most out of the last five days before they were over, because Ben knew they’d be gone in a blink of an eye.

“This really it, huh?” Richie said. He was leaning half against the wall, an odd glazed look over his face.

“Richie Tozier, are you going to cry?” Bev said, grinning.

“No way José.” Richie said. “Leave that for my last day.”

Bev punched his arm playfully and Ben suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to burst out crying. He’d just spend the best year of his life in Whitemore. Ben changed his mind, four years wasn’t a lot. They’d be over quickly, and then he could never go back to Whitemore and Ben wanted to spend his whole life at Whitemore and-

“Please follow your form tutor into the hall.” Mrs Wilson’s calm voice said, and Ben gave a deep sigh. It was definitely not the time to overthink.

Mrs Henderson walked to the front of North and East’s line and clapped for silence. Bill and Stan stoped arguing and Bev stopped egging them on. Everyone shuffled into a neater and line and Mrs Henderson lead them into the hall.

Being first years meant North and East sat at the front, behind West and South. The higher year you were, the further back you sat, with the Fifth Years at the very back of the hall.

Every single teacher Ben has ever seen at Whitemore was in the hall, standing around the edge. He spied Matron towards the back, specking in a low voice to some Top Years with a gentle expression on her face and Ben was suddenly hit by how soon that would be him and Losers.

He turned forward and let out a not so subtle sniff. Bev, who was sitting to his right, turned to him and smiled.

“We’ll be back soon.” He said quietly.

“All of this will be over soon.” Ben said. “And I really don’t want it to be.”

“Me either.” Bev said. “But you can’t look back forever. Think of all the things we have to look forward to! We can all get a house together, go to the same university, get the jobs we’ve always wanted! Whitemore is only the first stage.”

Ben gave her a very watery smile. “I guess. But that still doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be over.”

“Of course not, Dummy.” Bev said, smiling. “But we still have our whole lives to fuck up. Lets make the most of it.”

Ben laughed quietly. Bev was, of course, right. Ben had been worrying over nothing, and he didn’t want to spend his last few days sad. He had to keep his eyes on the future, not the past, like Bev said.

“Thanks.” He whispered.

“No problem keed.” Bev whispered back.

“Can we please all quieten down now!” Mrs Wilson said from the front, and Ben shut his mouth, turning to the front.

“Thank you.” Mrs Wilson said. “This is, as you all know, the last week here and for some of us, the last week ever here.” She gave the back rows a proud gaze and Ben was surprised at the pure amount of sobs he heard. “But, we must not cry about that. This has been a spectacular year and I’m very proud of every single one of you. At the start of the year, I walked into Whitemore with high expectations for the First years, with great wishes for the Second, with pure certainty in the Third, with bold admiration in the Fourth and with pride in the Fifth. And you have all succeeded my expectations brilliantly. You have done good to Whitemore as Whitemore has done good to you, and as you go through into your summers and your lives, I want you to remember the lessons Whitemore has taught you, and I’m not just talking about Math. You all have potential in you and I hope you do not waste it. And, of course, thank you all for making my job so wonderful. Seeing you around school everyday reminds me of how lucky I am to be head here.”

Ben let a tear roll down his cheek. This was way more emotional than he thought it would be, and he didn’t even care if someone saw him crying. This was the end of something giant in Ben’s life, and if he cried then he cried.

“How, I could spend forever saying how amazing this year was,” Mrs Wilson continued. “But there are other matters pressing, such as awards.”

There was clapping and Ben joined in, the sound giving very convenient sound to cover up his not to quiet sniffs.

“Let’s start off with the Fifth Year Tennis team who not only got second in the national championship but also to the two girls who bagged two schooler ships!” Mrs Wilson said, and eight people walked from the back of the hall to the front.

Before then, Ben had always thought Top years looked so tall and intimidating but seeing them tearing up at the front of the hall to receive their certificates, Ben saw them just like anyone else in the school; a person who wanted to make Whitemore proud. And Ben made a promise to himself in that moment that, no matter what, he’d make Whitemore proud too.

Mrs Wilson cleared her throat. “Let’s not forget the insanely talented First years! Give a big round of applause to the lacrosse team who’ve been practicing all year round, Mike Hanlon, Alison Halster, Greta Bowie, Patricia Blum and Eric O’conner!”

Another round of applause and Ben let out a loud cheer, leaning forward to see Mike’s bashful face at the end of the Loser’s line.

Mrs Wilson continued to read out certain people from the gymnastic team and Ben reached behind Bev to high five Mike. He couldn’t quite reach, and only ended up tickling Bill’s ear, but it was a start.

“W-we s-s-should all s-sigh up for a t-te-team next y-year.” Bill said quietly to the seven of them.

“What were you thinking?” Richie whisper yelled from Ben’s other side.

“We could all do tennis?” Mike said.

“Or we could spend more time sleeping.” Eddie said casually.

“S-s-skydiving.” Bill said.

“Oh yes, I totally forgot our school offered a sport performed 500 feet in the air.” Stan said from the very end of the line. Lucky for Stan, he had the talent of being able to project his voice very clearly at a low volume, which all the other Losers failed miserably at.

“We c-c-could u-use the t-t-top of N-n-n-north Tower.” Bill said.

Stan looked ready to argue, then seemed to give up inside and fell back in his seat.

“I might join track.” Ben said. It was something he had been thinking about for a while, something he hadn’t said till now. He knew it was something good to do, something good to focus on and use it to motivate himself. And he also knew he liked running quite a bit. The only reason he hadn’t joined up sooner, he guessed, was because he was scared of being judged. But sitting on the second row on their last assembly, seeing how alike he was to everyone, he realised he really didn’t care who thought what. At the end of the day, it was his choice to join track.

“And now, can the select Whitemore swimmers please come up.” Mrs Wilson said, diverting the Losers from their conversation.

Two people from each year group were selected, and Stan was one of them. He not so gracefully stepped over peoples legs, making his way to the front. He was grinning, and Ben could tell Stan wouldn’t of been able to hold it back if he tried.

Mrs Wilson handed each swimmer a certificate and, over Bill clapping like a proud Mum, Ben heard her say she would be horned if they continued swimming next year.

“I’ll make sure Stan stays on the team.” Richie said from besides Ben and Eddie. “I’ll force him into the water if I have to. Can’t have Stanny wasting his talent at such a young age.”

And Richie was joking but he sounded proud and Ben found he did too. Of all of them, really. For getting up again and again and fighting and persisting. It wasn’t easy, really wasn’t, but they’d done it.

Stan came clambering back to his seat and received a large pat on the back from Richie.

“Knew you’d get something.” Bev hissed over to Stan, grinning.

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan said, but he was still smiling.

“Now,” Mrs Wilson said from the front, after the clapping had died down. “as you’re all aware, Whitemore suffered a great tragedy back in April. The fire that was set in the Sick Bay was something I’m sure we’ll always remember.”

There was low talk but Mrs Wilson waited a few seconds before continuing. “I want to first of all thank you for how brave you all were on that night. You handled everything maturely and I couldn’t be prouder. But now the re building of a sick bay is completely and all the tests have been done, I know how the fire started.”

Louder talk this time. Ben whipped his head around. “How it started?”. And now Ben realised that, with the Fate and the end of year coming, he completely forgot that there was a reason the fire started. Eddie was staring at Mrs Wilson with his mouth open slightly and Mike looked ready to run out of the room.

Mrs Wilson cleared her throat loudly and plunged on. “Although I can’t say who did it for legal reasons, someone dropped a burning cigarette into the fire place. It appears this persons originally thought the cigarette was completely out, but it wasn’t. That person isn’t facing any legal charges due to flimsy evidence but I shall make sure they’re fired.”

The loudest cheer of the day yet went up.

“She’s pretty badass, when you think about it.” Eddie said, clapping along.

Ben laughed and was about to reply to Eddie when he caught sight of Stan’s face. He was staring at someone in shock and, when Ben turned around, Bev was looking right back.

“Mr Smith.” Bev said to Stan.

“It was him, wasn’t it.” Stan said to Bev, seeming to momentarily forget the Richie, Eddie and Ben were sitting in between them. “We saw him smoking in the science department and I saw his pack of cigarettes on the second ever day here.”

“I can’t believe it.” Bev said. “No more crappy Math lessons.”

“We could of said something...” Stan said, looking distant. “We could of stopped this.”

“But smoking isn’t illegal, Stan.” Bev said. “They couldn’t of really done anything. Besides, things kind of worked out on their own, huh?”

Stan swallowed and nodded and Ben had absolutely no idea what conversation he’d just experienced meant, although he thought he had a pretty good idea.

“Mr Smith accidentally set fire to Whitemore?” Ben asked Bev in a low voice.

“Uh-hu.” Bev bopped her head slightly. “Me and Stan the man saw his cigarettes.”

Ben looked at Stan who was, slowly, regaining the colour in his cheeks.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Ben said to Stan. “You didn’t drop the cigarette.”

“No...” Stan said, pressing his hands onto his knees.

“Attention please.” Mrs Wilson called from the front. The talking dropped. “I understand this is great news but let’s not forget the true heroes in the time of emergency. Thanks to every single one you of contributing to the Fate over a month ago, I can now say that the total raised was over a massive ten thousand pounds!”

No, Ben was wrong, the cheer that followed that was the loudest. It shook the hall and Ben was astonished that none of the windows shattered. He was screaming himself horse, standing up along with half the other students. He looked around and saw Mrs Foy dapping tears, Matron bellowing something into he hall and Mr Valley violently fist pumping the air.

They’d done it. They’d raised enough money to re build the sick bay and Ben bet money would be left over.

“Thank you, thank you!” Mrs Wilson said, but this time it took a full five minutes before everyone had calmed down. She was smiling, though, and Ben saw that all too familiar twinkle in her eye.

“You all contributed amazingly to the Fate, and for that you all deserve a clap. But, let’s have a special round of applause to the project manager, Richie Tozier!”

Richie actually blushed as the clapping ran out. He sat and looked around, but not for long because Mrs Wilson was ushering him to the front and Richie Tozier was never a one for walking calmly.

“Let’s also see the people who helped plan the Fate from day one, Ben Hanscom-“

Ben almost choked, before being hurdled up by Bev and Eddie and walking to the front.

“Bill Denbrough, Stan Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak, Mike Hanlon and Beverly Marsh!”

Ben stood next to Richie at the front, and the rest of the Losers lined up next to him. Mrs Wilson handed over certificates and Ben tried earnestly not to blush as people clapped.

And maybe it was cheesy and stupid, but Ben thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d already made Whitemore proud.

 

 **Mike Hanlon, entering an empty English Classroom**  
Mike nudged the classroom door open very slightly with his foot and peered through. He saw a English classroom, with chairs at different angles and posters half falling off the wall. He saw a room he’d become so use to he could probably use it as a bedroom and sleep okay.

“I-i-is it e-em-empty?” Bill asked from behind Mike.

“All clear.” Mike reported back, and pushed it open completely.

The seven Losers walked in, led by Mike. It was lunch time, and after scoffing down their plates of meatballs and pasta (Mike gave his meatballs Bill), the Losers decided to find an empty room and work on their yearbook page.

Mrs Wilson had told them towards the end of assembly that each first can have a letter to their future self. There would be a double page spread for it and she needed the letters by tomorrow at noon. So, that’s what they were going to do.

The tables were making a sort of open circle shape and Mike pushed himself back onto the table, the Losers doing the same. Soon, they were all sitting on the table tops.

Stan walked over to the draws and pulled a tray of lined paper out, dropping a whole stack down on the table.

The Losers passed them around and Mike finally got a sheet.

“You think they’ll allow swearing?” Richie asked.

“Oh, definitely.” Ben said, opening his pencil case and taking out a blue fountain pen.

Mike looked at his paper, trying to come up with something. What did you want to have in the future? A good job? A nice home? Something like that? Yet Whitemore had taught him things that he wouldn’t of learnt anywhere else. Things that he’d want to cherish forever, things he didn’t want to forget. Would he forget? The way he thought at fourteen would be different to how he thought at forty, right. So, would he forget all this? Like it was some hazy dream?

Maybe the letter shouldn’t be a question but a reminder. Of what he has right now. Which was a home and a family, one he’d never ever replace.

Mike smiled slightly and popped the lid off his pen, hunching slightly to write.

He could hear someone’s pen scratching from the other side of the table, and was going to look up to see who it was when something pointy hit his neck.

“Wha-“ Mike said, looking around for the source. A paper airplane was stuck in the book case, it’s point creased.

“Oops, sorry Mike!” Eddie said, his hand half raised over his mouth. Both him and Bev were sitting crossed legged on the table, Bev holding a half made paper airplane.

“You realise we’re meant to be writing the letters?” Mike joked, moving back into a comfortable position.

“This is way more fun tho.” Bev said, folding what looked like the wing of the airplane. “Airline Bev Marsh, coming for you.”

She flicked his with swiftness, and Mike watched it dart through the air then out the open window.

“Oh shoot!” Bev said, clambering off the desk and looking out the window on tiptoes.

“Airline Bev Marsh needs a better driver, I see.” Mike said, spinning his pen in his fingers.

“Maybe the driver was wearing those really big bangles and couldn’t reach the execrator properly.” Bev mumbled, sliding back next to Eddie and resting her head in his lap.

“We could sue.” Eddie said quietly to her, and Bev nodded.

Mike laughed slightly and turned back to his sheet. He wrote a few more lines, the ink staining the paper. When would he look back at this? When he was about to leave Whitemore? He could have a whole career by then, and his whole life infront of him. And he’d do it with the Losers, obviously. Except... what if he didn’t? He’d always just thought that, no matter what, he’d live life with the six of them. But now he was writing to his future self, he couldn’t help but wonder. Would they always be together?

He scribbled something else down.

“How do you spell phenomenal?” Bev asked, laying on her back with her head tilted.

“P-h-e-“ Ben started, but was cut off with;

“Eh, I’ll just put good.”

Mike glanced around at them. Stan was squinting at his sheet, Bill was trying to write while the paper was balanced awkwardly on his arm, Ben looked like he’d crossed out half his letter already and Richie was laying down on the table, his head dangling off.

“You good, Man?” Mike asked.

“Apparently your blood goes to your brain when your upside down.” Richie said. Then his face lit up. “Hey, Stan, do you think I’d be able to perform a backwards handspring off the table?”

Stan looked up. “No.”

There was a pause.

“Do it anyway.”

Richie jolted his knees up and was just about to flip backwards despite Eddie’s frantic cries when Bev let out a loud “Done!”

“Let’s see!” Richie said, clashing down onto the table.

“You all have to finish first.” Bev said, holding her sheet to her chest.

“My p-p-pen’s r-running o-out.” Bill grumbled, before getting pelted with three different pens.

“Ow!” He said, as Ben’s spear one smacked into his cheek.

“Be grateful.” Ben said, shuffling on the table.

Mike resumed his letter. He hadn’t got much left, just a couple of lines. It had to be perfect, though, and Mike wasn’t too big on details normally. But his first year at Whitemore had been something that he never wanted to forget, and he had to remind himself that. However weird that sounded.

Ten minutes and two pens later, the seven of them were done. Ben put the letters in his bag and shook it up, handing each other the Losers a random letter.

“You read whoever wrote it, then we’ll rotate. No thoughts or criticism. Just read.”

Mike flipped the sheet he had and read;

Dear Future Me  
Firstly, I hope you’ve done well in all your school exams and you’ve got a job you enjoy. Second, I hope you continue doing what you love. Third, I hope you’ve stuck with your friends even if Richie keeps doing his voices and if Bill can’t do simple math. And I hope it was all worth it.  
-Stan Uris, class of 1984

Dear future me  
helloooooo me. Right to start you better of got better glasses and you better be rich. Also hope all your friends aren’t too jealous of your amazing glow up. This is weird to write but I also hope the Losers are still going strong and spaghetti man still puts up with you  
-Richie Tozier, class of 1984

Dear future me  
I want to make sure you remember every single good thing you’ve ever experienced, so I’m listing a few: Whitemore, the days in town, the play, Mike’s party, seeing Mum over half term and the losers. That might make me cry in five years but I hope I’ve made new memories.  
-Ben Hanscom, class of 1984

Dear future me  
There’s a lot I want to say and not much space so I’ll keep to the important stuff: I hope you’re happy with how you’re doing and where you are in life and I hope I don’t put as much pressure on yourself like I sometimes do. I hope I’m happy and the Losers are too and I hope I’m married to someone who cares for me as much as I care for them. And I hope it’s forever.  
-Eddie Kaspbrak, class of 1984

Dear future me  
To start with this pen is very annoying but I hope I’m reading this surrounded by the people I love most in the world and Richie (just kidding don’t kill me if 18 year old Richie is reading this) and I hope I haven’t got my stutter anymore. I also hope I can’t stop blaming myself for things that aren’t my fault and that my hair is still as awesome as it is currently.  
-Bill Denbrough, class of 1984

Dear Future Me  
This is so cool and I don’t really know what to put but I’ll try. Future me, I hope I’ve cut off from anyone that’s not worth my time and I hope I’m actually happy with who I am. I hope I’m with people who I love and I hope I’m doing something I love. For me, though, not for anyone else. There. I think that’s how this works.  
-Beverly Marsh, class of 1984

Dear future Me  
instead of listing things I want in the future I’ll list things I hope I remember in the future. I hope I remember how happy I am in the first year and how happy the Losers make me. And remember how much they’ve done for you and what I’m sure they’ve continued to do. Don’t give up on anything, ever.  
-Mike Hanlon, class 1984

“Wow this was so inspiring.” Richie said, dabbing away a fake tear. He was now sitting correctly on the table, his hair wild.

“I think they were all very bear to the heart.” Eddie said seriously.

“Eddie, such a poet.” Richie said, and Eddie half flipped him off.

“Okay, I’ll send these down to Mrs Wilson.” Stan said, stacking them up.

“And I’ll come with.” Bev said, hopping off the table. “I want to ask about sports teams next year.”

“Lets join the musical club.” Ben said. “That would be so ace-“

“Except I can’t sing.” Stan said.

“M-m-me either.” Bill said. “I s-s-still s-say s-skydiving.”

Mike laughed and in that moment he thought his question was answered. Maybe he didn’t know what house he would have or what job he’d be doing. But he knew for certain that he would never, ever lose his friends.

Because nothing that close to you can ever go away.

 

 **Beverly Marsh, waiting for their (last) French Lesson**  
“I can’t believe it’s the last French lesson.” Ben signed, tracing a drawing on the wall.

“L-l-last o-one this y-ye-year.” Bill pointed out.

“Mm.” Ben said, letting his arms drop to his side. “Still, I’ll miss it. Wait, no. No I won’t.”

Bev patted his shoulders. After the morning assembly, everyone had been down in the dumps. You couldn’t do one thing without someone saying ‘That’s the last time you’ll do that!’ and honestly, Bev was starting to feel it too.

Her first year at Whitemore had been something so special that the thought of it coming to the end did make her feel sad. It also made her regret not making more out of things. Even though she kept reminding herself they’d all be back in two months, she knew it wouldn’t be the same as the First Year. Nothing ever would.

But it wasn’t just that. She was also scared about actually going home. Seeing her Father, seeing her Mother. For the past ten months, she had been able to almost forget about them. Forget about the pain, the hurt, all the things she secretly thought she deserved. But now she had five days. Five days then two months. She didn’t know how she was going to survive it. Maybe she’d become weak at Whitemore.

But she had time. Not much, that she knew, but some. And she wanted to make the most of it.

“Chloe, slow up!”

Bev turned around to see Chloe coming towards the line, Audra, Patty and Emily following up.

“Guys, huddle.” Chloe instructed.

“Why?” Bev said, slipping into the circle North and East had made.

“You’ll see.” Chloe said, raising her eyebrows. “Everyone here.”

“Think so.” Eric said. “Why?”

“Okay,” Chloe said, opening her satchel. “you all know my cousins, right? The ones who’d been here before?”

There was a mumble of yes, everyone being well accustomed to Chloe’s cousins.

“Well, I got a parcel from them this morning.” Chloe said, pulling a dark brown box out from her bag. “At first I thought it was comics or something, but it isn’t. It’s invisible chalk!”

Silence.

“That’s... nice.” Ben said finally.

“No!” Chloe huffed. “Invisible chalk, dummies! It’s a prank. Someone writes something and after thirty or so seconds, it disappears.”

“Ohhh.” Bev said. Then, she gasped excitedly. “Say, Chloe we could use it on Mam'zelle!”

“Mam’zelle?” Chloe said doubtfully. “I thought we could use it on West and South or something.”

“Oh please!” Bev begged, grabbing Chloe’s hands. “It would be the best way to spend the last French lesson and they wouldn’t punish us, not if we only have a few days left!”

Chloe seemed to deflate. “Okay.” She said. “But on my rules, got it?”

Bev laughed and Eddie spun her around, equally as happy.

“I can’t do French for shit.” He said, smiling softly. “It’ll be good to just have a fun lesson. Plus the look on Mam'zelle’s face will probably kill me!”

The bell rang, the well known sound now that Bev was now totally familiar with it.

“Someone put this inside quickly!” Chloe hissed as everyone got into a line.

“I’ll go!” Bev said. She plucked the ghost-white chalk stick from Chloe’s dark fingers and shouldered into the door.

No one was inside, lucky, and Bev hurried to the blackboard. She snatched up the normal piece of chalk and dropped it into her blazer pocket, making a mental note to return it later. Then, she carefully placed the chalk onto the wooded ledge and left the room, brushing her hands on her trousers.

“You did it okay?” Mike asked when Bev came out, circling his fingers around her wrist.

“Sure thing.” Bev said. She turned towards Chloe. “Now what?”

Chloe sucked in her right cheek. “Listen up!” She called down the line. “Copy what’s on the board really quickly, then when it’s faded away pretend you can still see it. Okay?”

‘Okay’ was chorused and Chloe gave a small nod. “We’re all set.” She said.

Just then, Mrs Foy walked towards them. Bev expected her to walk past but instead she stopped at the start of the line.

“Hello North and East.” She said sternly, shutting the few remaining voices up. “Your teacher is at a conference with Fifth years so I’ll be taking you today. Normal seats please, and I will know otherwise.”

She opened the door and stood back, waiting for Bev to lead in. But Bev was frozen in shock. Why the fuck did Mam’zelle have to be off today? It was Bev who had changed the chalk and Bev who would have to take the blame. And knowing Mrs Foy, it could be a very big blame.

“Is everything alright?” Mrs Foy said, narrowing her eyes at Bev.

“Yes.” Bev squeaked, heading in. She dumped her bag on her desk at the second row, breathing heavily. How likely was it that Mrs Foy would use the blackboard?

Ah groaned quietly. Why had she wanted to play a prank? It was trouble asking for trouble. This must be some sort of karma.

She could feel Chloe and half the classes eyes on her. She wanted to turn around and yell at them that she was sorry, that she didn’t mean for it to go so wrong. But that would be no use and it was her fault.

“Right.” Mrs Foy said, shutting the door. “Emily, Blake, hand books out please.”

There was a scrap of chairs from the back. Bev stayed focus on the chalk? Did she dare get up and change it? If someone distracted Mrs Foy for a few seconds, she could swap them back.

The put her hand in her pocket and trailed her fingers over the chalk. It seemed to be weighing her pocket down and she once again cursed herself for doing something so stupid.

“Can someone please recap some sentences from your previous lesson while I take the register.” Mrs Foy asked from the desk. Bill put his hand up and started talking in perfect French.

“Je suis allé en espagne l'été dernier.” His voice soothed Bev slightly, and she managed to slow her breathing down. If worst came to worst, she’d get some sort of detention, right? Surely it wouldn’t be worse than that.

“Thank you, Bill.” Mrs Foy said, and Bill sat down. “Now, for today’s lesson.”

Emily gave Bev her book and a little smile. “It’ll be okay.”

Bev smiled back and flipped her book open to the next blank page. She scribbled down the date, her foot tapping at a million miles per second.

“Thank you, Blake and Emily.” Mrs Foy said as they both sat down. “Now, for today’s lesson, Mam’zelle has informed me that you’ll be continuing your vocabulary on countries and holidays.”

She walked over to the blackboard and picked up the chalk. Bev’s heart dropped down through the floor.

“Please don’t use it, please don’t use it, please don’t use it-“ She whispered under her breath.

Mrs Foy raised her hand and the chalk touched the blackboard. She began to write the title, the sounds seeming ten times louder to Bev. White formed on the board, making out the words ‘My Holiday’.

Everyone bent over, writing faster than they ever had in a French class. Bev’s heart was hammering in her chest. Maybe it won’t work. Maybe it was a dud.

Mrs Foy walked back to the desk and opened a folder. Bev could feel everyone’s eyes on the board. Slowly, the writing began to fade, fade, fade, until it was no longer there. Bev turned desperately around. Half the class looked impressed, the other half mortified.

“Roll with it.” Richie hissed from his seat behind her.

Bev groaned and spun around. The emptiness of the board mocked her.

Mrs Foy walked away from her desk, papers under her arm. She gave a quick look at the board, then did a double take.

“What on earth happened to the title?”

Bev looked at her desk, sure that she’d look too guilty if she looked up.

“I said,” Mrs Foy repeated. “what happened to the title?”

“What do you mean, Miss?” Ben said innocently.

“Well, did someone rub it out?” Mrs Foy said, glaring around.

“But the title’s still there, Miss.” Eric said, keeping a level voice.

“Maybe your eyes are playing up, Miss.” Richie said. “You know what age is like-“

“Beep beep.” A Eddie sounding voice hissed from further back.

Mrs Foy turned around to the board, then looked back. “It is certainly not on the board.”

“My holiday.” Stan said. “That’s what it says.”

Mrs Foy looked around, then picked the chalk up and started to write. She leaned back and Bev read the board, quickly scribbling it down.

Mrs Foy stood with her back to the board, looking around. “I will see if any of you try to rub it off now.” She said. “We’ve had our fun, now let’s actually work.”

Bev finished writing and looked up at the blackboard. The writing was, once again, fading. She could hear someone behind her mutter “Shit” and she couldn’t of agreed more.

The writing completely vanished, Mrs Foy still looking out like a hawk at them. “Now, who would like to translate that?”

A few hands shot up and she pointed at Patty. Then, she turned around and let out a startled cry.

“What’s wrong, Miss?” Buffy asked from the middle row.

“You know very well what’s wrong.” Mrs Foy said. “The writing on the board has gone. Once again.”

“I can still read the board, Miss.” Mike called.

“Me too.” Alison agreed.

“And me.” Chloe put in.

“I don’t know what’s going on here but it is not funny whatsoever.” Mrs Foy said, glaring at them like there was no tomorrow. “There is clearly nothing on the board.”

“L'hiver dernier, je suis allé en Alaska avec ma famille.” Eddie said, miss pronouncing the E’s. “That’s what it says.”

Mrs Foy did a double take of the board, looking more and more confused by each second. Bev hid a laugh despite how grave the situation was.

“It’s very clearly not there.” Mrs Foy repeated, but she sounded uncertain.

“But it is there, Miss.” Audra said, leaning forward. “Can’t you see it?”

Mrs Foy looked around completely bemused. Then, very carefully, she wrote on the board. But instead of turning around this time, she stayed still and stared at it.

“Uh Miss, what’s that?” Eddie said, trying to get her to turn away, but she continued to look.

As before, the writing started to fade. Slowly at first, but then gradually becoming nothing. Mrs Foy have a sharp “Ha!” and Bev’s heart did another backflip.

Mrs Foy picked up the chalk and faced the class. “So it was disappearing chalk, huh?”

Small mumbles.

“Miss,” Bev said, sitting up straight. “It was me, I’m sorry. I thought it would be funny to prank Mam’zelle, but I was wrong and it was immature and-“

“Beverly.” Mrs Foy said so sharply that Bev shut her mouth. “I am not mad.”

“I’m- wait?” Bev said, surw she misheard.

“I’m a bit disgruntled, yes, but only that I didn’t spot it earlier.” Mrs Foy said, and Bev could of sworn she smiled. “I’ve been teaching her for over ten years and if you think it’s rare to have a prank played then have I got something to tell you.”

“So I’m not in trouble.” Bev said weakly.

“Not today.” Mrs Foy said kindly. “Although I would recommend not doing this again. I’m only so soft because it’s almost the end of term.”

Bev allowed herself to smile, immensely grateful. Thank fuck Mrs Foy had a heart. Bev didn’t know if she could of stood being in trouble with Mrs Wilson.

“Now, let’s actually start this lesson.” Mrs Foy said. “Bev, you can start us off. And please use the correct chalk this time.”

Bev blushed a little as she walked up, taking the actual chalk from her pocket. And as she wrote her translation on the board, she became more and more certain that, how ever crappy summer would be, Whitemore would be there to welcome her right back.

 

**Bill Denbrough, in the common room with North and East**

“Ok but Mrs Foy’s face when the title disappeared SENT ME!” Eddie laughed lightly, leaning up against Richie bent knees, sitting on the sofa.

“And I’m actually really surprised our year book quotes were inspirational and not stocked up with curse words.” Ben huffed a laugh, causing a a few from East and North to laugh along too.

“And can you believe how much money we raised?! I thought we were gonna reach 150 at most!” Alison said in surprise.

The rest of the evening felt like it flew by to Bill. There was chatting about the happenings of that day, rolling around stupidly on the common room couches, Bill nearly falling into the fireplace and getting soot smudged up his cheek, all of them almost crying about the fact there were only five days left of their first year at Whitemore (though if anyone ever mentioned it, Stan would blame it on the onions they had with their vegetarian hot dogs they had earlier on that evening).

All in all, Bill didn’t know how to feel. Happy that they’d made it through their first year? Sad that they’d made it through their first year? A lot happened, but they weren’t necessarily bad things, in fact all the prank wars and cross country that they all complained about no matter how hard they tried not to, some not even trying, had been what’s carved their first year at Whitemore into being something unique. Yes, the fire and the sick bay burning down weren’t exactly the most convenient things in the world but then that caused the fete to happen and Bill was sure that no matter how hard he’d try he’d never forget how iconic Ben’s face looked when he got stuck up a curtain.

Well now Bill wished he hadn’t starting thinking at all. He didn’t want to spend his last Monday in the first formers common room with tears dripping down onto himself or Bev depending on which way he was facing or laying.

And for the first time in his entire life, he didn’t have that usual Monday morning/ afternoon feeling. He smiled. What a stupid thing to think.

“I say we do something.” Bev suddenly said, sitting up abruptly.

“...About...what?” Mike asked slowly, looking around the room confused.

“No I mean like, we need to do something.” Bev explained weakly, voice determined.

“Bev. Elaborate.” Stan said impatiently, still smiling though.

“We can’t just sit here crying all night, we should do something else... all night.” She said, Richie smirked.

“Well if you want but I don’t think Billy boy is ready to pull an all nighter just yet-“

“Not like that Richie.” Bev interrupted tiredly.

“So like, midnight feast?” Eddie’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Well we don’t have any food but yes! We can go to our dorms and after it’s lights out we can all, come back here and just cry some more.” Bev said happily, then yawning out widely.

“I d-d-don’t a-actually th-th-think you’ll l-l-last to lights ow-ow-out.” Bill chuckled teasingly.

“Don’t underestimate the power of Bev’s will.” Mike said, grinning.

Soon enough, East and North headed to their dorm rooms, getting changed with the buzz of excitement hanging in the air.

“Should I set an alarm incase we fall asleep after lights out?” Ben asked, fiddling around with his clock. “Because at this point a tornado couldn’t keep me awake.”

“You don’t need an alarm clock when you have Richie.” Mike chuckled quietly, putting on his slightly tea stained slippers on.

“Speaking of the devil, where is he?” Eddie asked.

“G-G-G-God not th-th-this again.” Bill slumped onto his bed. “If there i-is another f-f-fire I s-sw-s-swear-“

“Devil?!” Richie strode through the door, a pantomime shocked look on his face. “I’d rather like to think of myself as a fine fellow but whatever floats your boat I guess.”

“And where are have you been?” Stan said, almost like a mum after you go somewhere without telling her but really she knows where you’ve been she just wants to hear it from you. Bill once went down the road to retrieve a newspaper that was thrown at the wrong house, but you could’ve been fooled that he’d committed a crime.

“Oh you know, kissing the ladies good night.” Richie smiled lazily, catching Bill’s eye.

“Oh h-h-Hey, I got s-s-something for y-you.” Bill smiled sweetly, reaching over to his bedside table.

“For moi? You shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah it’s w-wuh-one of a k-k-kuh-kind.” Bill balled up his fist and turned back to Richie. Slowly he raised his middle finger up and smiled in sarcastic wonder, getting a thwack off Richie.

A sudden knock came at the door and the boys jumped in alarm. They scrambled around and jumped into their beds, duvets flying over their heads.

“Guys chill out it’s just me.” Beverly’s voice floated into the room and Bill sat up immediately, almost knocking the wind out of him.

“You alright Bev?” Ben asked, rubbing his eye.

“Matron’s just checked up on our room, she said that-“

“Oh, she hasn’t got to us yet...” Stan said slowly. As soon as he muttered the words, heavy trodding foot steps trudged their way up the stairs below them.

“Shit not again.” Bev whispered so quietly Bill didn’t know whether it was her or his thoughts. “And Richie, don’t make me laugh this time.” She slammed off the lights and shot under the closest bed she could find. It just so happened to be Bill’s.

The hallway light that shone through the crack of the door grew wider as Bill shut his eyelids at the speed of light.

“Boys?” Matron’s voice hung in the silence. No one dared to breathe. “Boys.” She said a little louder. Bill heard Eddie shuffle around.

“Everything alright?” He said croakily as if he’d been a sleep since nine.

“Just fine, thought you’d like to know I’m cleaning the common room out, so you may not go in there in the morning.” Matron whispered, Bill felt his mattress lift up a little then flop back down again. He coughed loudly and turned around in his bed, trying to make it looked like he’d just been disturbed or something, but it was very difficult doing all that with a laugh hanging at the front of his mouth.

“Ok, thanks Matron.” Eddie yawned. She shut the door and Bill let out a wheeze.

“Bev!” He whisper yelled to her under his bed through laughs.

“I got bored.” She laughed quietly in return, getting up from the floor.

“You have no idea how hard it was not to scream when I just saw Bill’s body rise up, I’m just glad it’s dark in here.” Eddie was almost crying with laughter.

“I’m honestly surprised Richie didn’t do anything.” Stan said in surprise. “Wait I actually think he’s dead.” Richie was lying flat on his stomach, head in the pillow.

“So much for him being our alarm clock.” Ben muttered.

“But guys, what are we gonna do now that we can’t go in the common room? And why didn’t she tell us earlier?” Mike asked, now speaking in a louder voice.

“Let’s j-j-j-just do it i-in h-huh-h-here.” Bill suggested, looking around the probably too small dorm room.

“Bill no one wants to see you do it right here in-front of all of us.” Richie mumbled, surprisingly clearly, through his pillow.

“Oh so n-n-now you’re a-a-awake.” Bill huffed in mild annoyance.

“Don’t you think it’ll be a bit tight in here?” Ben pointed out.

“Eh, i’ll get the girls. It will probably fit everyone.” Bev clicked open north’s dorm room door quietly and slid out of the room.

“The room barely has enough room for us.” Eric spoke up for about the second time that evening.

“...he’s not wrong.” Stan agreed.

Sooner or later Bev returned, the rest of east trailing behind her and filtering into north’s dormitory.

“Well, shit.” Mike said, looking around the room that was now completely packed.

“This is why you don’t listen to Bill after one suggestion.” Richie said, a lot more awake now.

Bill shrugged. “F-fair point.”

“Well, we have no food, or drink, and no oxygen. What a night.” Greta sighed. Bill could practically hear her ringing her fingers through her long hair.

“Jeez Greta lighten up. This is still a sleepover isn’t it? I mean if you want you can go back to bed.” Alison rolled her eyes sourly.

“I’m just pointing out the situation.” Greta held up her hands in defence. “Ugh. My hair gets so greasy in this type of temperature.”

“I just- I feel like I don’t... like... have the breath, anymore??” Bev said, walking to sit on Bill’s bed.

An hour or two later after chatting not quietly at all, Emily walked over to Eddie’s bed and sat on it, looking very tired indeed. “Hey,” She scrunched her eyebrows together as if talking were too much effort. “How come your beds are so much more comfortable than ours?”

“You find these comfy?” Eddie laughed out in surprise.

“Anything seems comfortable when you’re tired.” Buffy yawned from across the floor. “Like I’d happily have this wood as my sleeping bag.”

“How come everyone is so tired this evening? Come on we have to make the most of it.” Richie jumped up and down on his bed like a three year old waiting to rush through to his parents’ room at 5am on Christmas Day.

“Richie you’re gonna break that.” Eddie looked up at Richie, smile lingering on his cheeks.

“Eh they have a whole summer to fix it.” Richie continued, soon dragging Eddie up as well.

Mike coughed loudly and pointed at Stan whose eyes were now plastered shut. He put a finger to his lips and grabbed his pillow. Without anyone having the sense of warning him not to hit Stan with a pillow when he’s at his grumpiest stage of the evening, he drew the pillow back and threw it at Stan’s head. Direct hit.

“Oh. Fuck.” Ben slapped a hand over his mouth to stop his laughter from cascading throughout the room, the rest doing the same.

“If somebody doesn’t own up to who threw this pillow at me someone may just take a little visit to the grim reaper.” Stan said in a monotoned voice. Bill swallowed another rising giggle. Mike subtly put his hand behind him and motioned to Chloe to pass him another pillow. Bev widened her eyes in glee. “I swear to you guys-“ before Stan could finish his sentence another pillow came flying at his head.

Mike stood up on his bed, holding his duvet in his hands.

Stan’s anger quickly changed to challenging and he too rose up on his bed, both pillows in his hands. “Oh your on Hanlon.” And before any of them knew it, both east and north were in a full blown pillow/ duvet fight, all trying their best to stay as quiet as they possibly could.

Bill threw a duvet over his and Bev’s heads and kissed her lips, before having the duvet being ripped off their heads by a certain Richie Tozier. Bill blinked, not of embarrassment, but in slight... confusion?

“Bill? You ok?” Bev asked in concern, ignoring the pillow that was flying over her head to hit Eddie in the stomach.

“Y-y-y-y-yeah. I’m g-g-guh-g-guh-“ Could his stutter just go away for one minute?! “g-good.”

She smiled at him and proceeded to throw her duvet at Greta’s head. Of course he was good. He was fine. He was happy.

Suddenly an explosion of feathers flew around the room.

“Oh my god SOMEBODY KILLED A BIRD. SOMEBODY KILLED A- what type of bird was it? Stan what was it? A dove?! Who killed the DOVE!” Mike reached for the feathers, catching a few and examining them.

“wAIT DOESN’T A DOVE SYMBOLISE JESUS?!” Ben stared around wide eyed.

“sOMEBODY K-K-K-KILLED J-JUH-JE-J-JES-“

“Woah, stop right there sir.” Blake quietened the room.

“Guys chill out,” Patty laughed hysterically. “We just tore a pillow, they’re stuffed with feathers.”

Emily placed one on Buffy‘s head and giggled.

“I’m just gonna put this out there,” Eddie stared around the room, on Richie’s back from an apparent piggy back. “we are just a bit fucked.”

“Eddie we could’ve like stuck these on headbands for the fashion show.” Bev sighed, blowing one that had drifted down onto her arm.

“Hey guys,” Ben said, peering over at his clock. “It’s ten past midnight.” Bill sighed. It always bewildered him how time could move so fast without him even feeling it. It’s like you suddenly get a glimpse of it and then just like that it’s out of your control again. Bill hated the fact that things were always restricted on time. He didn’t have control of it.

But then, time could also be a good thing.

“Hey guys, you know what that means?” Richie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He let Eddie off his back. “We only have four days left of our first year.”

“Oh shut the fuck up Richard.” Greta scoffed.

“What? Something ruffle your feathers Greta?” Richie emphasised on the word ‘feathers’.

“Right!” Bev cut off any conversation that was currently happening, though she was still laughing. “I think it’s time we sleep.”

Yes, time was restrictive, but it was also free flowing. And Bill liked that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST SO EVERYONE KNOWS!! There will be four more AUs set at Whitemore, so you’ll see the Losers go through all their years. However, there is only one chapter left for their first year. Any questions, comment and we’ll reply as quickly as possible:)


	29. Losers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final day

**Mike Hanlon, in North’s dormitory**

Of all the things Mike wanted to do that day, waking up wasn’t one of them. He just wanted to shut his eyes and never let them be opened again until summer term has finished, but that would no be a wise thing to do.

The rising sun shone through the cracks of the curtains, blinding his eyes, but he didn’t shut them like he would on a normal school day. The rising sun usually meant he had to get up and learn soon, or play pranks on teachers, or chill in the common room with the losers at every moment they could. But this time he wasn’t going to do any of those things today, he was going home today. So he smiled at the rising light, then quickly came up with an idea.

“Guys!” He hissed, spotting a single feather they’d failed to clean up a few nights ago. Nobody stirred. Mike leant over to shake Stan by the shoulders. Stan groaned and rolled over, but Mike didn’t give in.

“Whaat?” Stan looked at him through slitted eyes.

“Help me wake the others up.” Mike replied, using his normal voice, not that there was much of a difference between that and his whisper he’d realised.

“Whyyy?” His head rolled back on his newly stuffed pillow. Turns out it was his that popped.

“You’ll see, just help me.” Mike pleaded and Stan sighed, sitting up stiffly in his bed. “You wake up the losers, i’ll get Bev. Meet me outside our dorm.”

“What even is the time?” Stan rubbed his eyes blindly.

“Uhh.” Mike slowly got out of his bed, missing the warmness of it immediately, and walked to Ben’s bedside table. “Like five fifteen.” He lied. It was 4:45. Stan shook his head as Mike started to make his way back to him.

“Ouch sHIT!” Mike stubbed his toe on the corner of his bed and yelped, making Stan jump and Ben’s head shoot up.

“Well that’s one less person to slaughter me when I wake them up.” Stan sighed, sliding on his slippers.

“Whas going on?” Ben scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion.

“You’ll see,” Mike repeated, standing by the door. “Just help Stan wake the rest up while I get Bev.”

“What’s he up to?” Was the last Mike heard before quietly skidding down the stairs and through to East’s dormitory. Was it really four forty five? Because he sure had a lot energy for it to be at least three hours before he’d usually wake up and even then people would probably mistake him for a zombie.

Mike clicked open East’s door and slid in. He blinked rapidly for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room and tip-toed over to Bev’s bed.

“Bev?” He whispered quietly, gently shaking her shoulders. She jolted and blinked her eyes, taking a moment or two to actually recognise it was Mike.

“Mike? What’s going on? What’s happening?” She sat up quickly, alarm written all over her face.

“Nothing don’t worry, just come with me to north.” Someone shifted and Mike shot his head around.

“What’s going on?” Bev asked again, pulling on some socks she’d thrown on the floor from yesterday evening.

“Quick just follow me.” Mike dragged her quickly out of the door and she shut it.

“Mike can you just tell me what’s happenin-“

“You’ll find out, let’s just meet the rest of the losers first.” Mike cut her off as they rounded the corner to walk up North’s stairs.

“Do they know what’s happening?” Beverly asked her tenth question of the morning, following closely behind Mike up the stairs.

“Nope.” He chuckled.

“You’re being surprisingly secretive Mikey.” She remarked as they pushed open the door, not so quietly this time.

“You’re telling us.” Stan greeted as they entered through the door way.

“Wanna tell us what’s going on Michael?” Richie placed his hands on his hips like an overprotective mum.

“Time will tell my dears, time will tell.” Mike grinned. “Now follow me.”

“I don’t know if you’re forgetting, but it’s literally five in the morning.” Eddie groaned as they walked out of the room.

“I thought it was like twenty past..?” Stan looked at Mike. Mike smiled apologetically and Stan sighed.

“Walking up s-s-s-stairs at f-f-five am w-was not h-h-huh-how I planned to s-sp-spend my l-last morning at W-Whitemore.” Bill panted over dramatically.

“So what were you planning to do at five am on your last morning?” Bev raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Richie fidgeted.

“Rich you look constipated.” Stan said flatly.

“J-J-Jesus Christ just s-s-say it.” Bill sighed.

“Bevvie dear, it is you who Bill would have been doing at five am on his last day.” Richie grinned. “WOO that felt good. Honestly thought I was gonna pass out.”

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. “Drama queen.”

“Oh so you wanna talk about drama queens Eds?” Richie laughed out loud, being shhed by all six of them.

“Up here guys.” Mike finally said, pushing through the door up to the roof.

“Ah I see.” Ben said as they all followed Mike onto the roof top.

“Woah.” They all said, one way or another. The Losers sat down on the hard, cool ground, which was actually quite refreshing for Mike, and stared at the sunrise.

“Haven’t been up here with the sun like this before.” Eddie said. Mike started to smile. He couldn’t help it, the sight was so amazing, so much more beautiful than he’d thought it looked through the curtain.

Light breeze floated around them, with heat from the rising sun beating onto their faces. Mike sighed. Was it really the end of his first year? A whole year had gone by at Whitemore and it only felt like three or four days had passed. He remembered how he felt. How they all must have felt, in aspects. He just remembered how unsure he was.

“I just wanna let you guys know,” Richie kicked a close by pebble that had previously been laying by his foot. “I love you guys, and I like know I never show it because it makes me want to rip my guts out-“

“Lovely.”

“-But really, I’m gonna miss you all.” Richie finished, audibly cringing.

“Aww Rich, we love you too.” Ben smiled sadly, then sighed. “I wish summer was only a week or so.”

“Me too.” Mike felt a lump grow deep in his throat.

They all stayed quiet for a moment, taking in the sunrise in all its glory and if not that then trying not to cry a river.

But Mike was sure now. Mike Hanlon knew. He knew that this wasn’t the end, in fact it was the very first page of the very first chapter of his life.

He knew that there was plenty more to come and that he was in store for many more adventures with the Losers. His Losers. He can’t even imagine how he felt so scared of this place. Of Whitemore. He thought he’d never fit in or actually have friends.

And boy was he wrong.

 

 **Ben Hanscom, packing in North’s dormitory**  
Ben Hanscom was happy.

He was standing in North’s dormitory, packing away for his final day, and he was happy.

Breakfast had finished half an hour ago, and on strict orders by Mrs Henderson, North and East first years had been sent to double check they’d packed everything in their dormitories. Ben had been absolutely certain he’d packed all his belongings, but upon entering the dormitory, he’d been slightly surprised to find his toothbrush, set of books and a majority of his clothes not actually in his suitcase.

Still, it could be worse. Bill hadn’t started packing at all and according to Bev, Patty tripped over Greta’s suitcase and they were now both trying to receive her many hair products that were under the beds.

Ben finished folding his last school shirt and placed it carefully on top of his suitcase, before zipping it up. Now he had definitely packed everything.

He stood up and perched onto the end of his bed. The duvet had been completely stripped earlier, and Ben supposed it wouldn’t be replaced until the new year started. It made the dorm look weirdly bigger, with rows of clear white mattress in lines. But it also didn’t feel as warm or friendly, and Ben realised he wouldn’t want his dorm any other way. Which only too painfully reminded him that...

“Guys,” He said to the room of eight (Bev had come in) “This is the last time we’ll ever be in here.”

“But, next year-“ Eddie said, crouched next to his too-big suitcase.

“Next year we have a different dormitory.” Stan said gravely. “You move up every year.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open and he slumped down. “Fuck, I forgot!”

Ben sighed heavily, looking around. Maybe it was stupid but North’s First Year dormitory had become like a home to him. The whole of Whitemore had become a home, but the dorm and common room had become something a lot closer than one of the math classrooms. He supposed they’d also get a new common room next year too.

“How many people have stood here like us?” Bev said. She was sitting on the window sill, her legs swinging.

“Hundreds.” Mike said, trying to stuff his lacrosse stick into his case. “How long has this school been around again? Like, 50BC?”

“Built in 1789.” Ben said. “And converted into a boarding school in the 1890s.”

“W-w-what w-was it b-be-before then?” Bill asked.

Ben shrugged, not actually knowing. “It has the build of a hospital, but I’m not sure. Seems unlikely it was actually used for that.”

“Look at Benny, being all smart and mature.” Richie said, pressing a hand to his heart. “He’s all grown up!”

“Beep beep.” Eddie said, pairing his socks together.

Richie barked out a laugh and leaned back against the wall. By some miracle, he’d finished packing earliest of the Losers (and Eric and Blake, for that matter) and Ben could sense Eddie’s frustration from his bed. Ben remembered how he had sat with Richie and Eddie on the first day at Whitemore, after their tours. It was weird to think back to how they’d been almost complete strangers then and now Ben had never been closer to a single person.

“Do you think the people in this room ten years ago were as upset as us?” Bev asked, continuing the conversation.

“Maybe.” Ben said, drumming his fingers on the bed post. “I mean, they’d have to go back home.”

“Yeah, but they’d still have another four years.” Eric pointed out from where he was packing. It was a saying that had been whizzing around all week; ‘we still have another four years’. Ben supposed people were trying to reassure themselves that it wasn’t the end, and it worked in a way. But Ben still didn’t want to wish the first year goodbye. So much had happened in the space of ten months and it had completely changed his life.

“But all the students that were in this room over six years ago have left now.” Bev said.

“That’s a long time.” Stan pointed out.

“Five years.” Bev said. “And one’s already gone. Not that long.”

Ben felt dread seeping over him. He really didn’t want to think about all his time at Whitemore being over. Bev was right, four years isn’t much. And when his final day came, Ben knew the Losers would have to drag him out of Whitemore.

Out of Whitemore... then what? What did they do after Whitemore? Go to college? University? Get jobs, a house? Would they still stay in touch?

Ben bit the inside of his cheek, his head going at a hundred miles an hour. Life was, really, very unpredictable. Up until now, Ben always saw it as pretty simple. You get an education, then a job, then a family. But it wasn’t a three step instruction manual. Life was a blank canvas and it could go as wrong or as right as the painter wanted. He could flick paint on or carefully fine detail parts or just close his eyes and move his brush around and see how it goes. Life was messy and scary and exciting and Ben was only just starting his. Whitemore was only the start. And yes, Whitemore would end. But maybe that wasn’t so bad. After Whitemore, Ben could do whatever he wanted with his canvas. Go to wherever he wished to, see whatever he wanted to.

No, Ben still wasn’t going to part with Whitemore with dry eyes. But there was a life after Whitemore, a life that belonged only to Ben Hanscom. He couldn’t waste that.

“Beverly Marsh, do you look like someone from North?”

Ben was snapped out of his thoughts by Mrs Henderson, who was standing by the door.

“I’ve finished packing, Miss.” Bev said, flashing one of her slightly nervous, more so dazzling smiles.

“Mmm.” Mrs Henderson said. “But I’m sure some of your friends from East could use your help. Come one now.”

Bev sighed lowly and got up. “See you on the train.” She said to the losers, before turning and heading out of the door.

“Thank you, Beverly.” Mrs Henderson said as Bev passed her. The she turned her attention back to the North boys. “Don’t forget to collect your things from the shower room. You have a bit over an hour.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open. “An hour?!” So much for Whitemore being the first chapter to his life story; he really did not want it to end.

“That is what I said.” Mrs Henderson smiled very slightly. “So I suggest you hurry up.”

She left the room swiftly, and Ben sighed loudly.

“Fuck man, an hour.” Mike said, blinking in disbelief. “That’s hardly any time.”

Ben tried to remind himself of the canvas and brushes and colours and all the things his life had in store after Whitemore, but it still didn’t stop the heavy ache in his heart. “Come on,” He said. “Let’s clear out the shower room.”

Bill and Richie came with him, the other still needing to pack. They slipped out of their dormitory and climbed down the few stairs until they were outside of their common room.

“G-g-goodbye,” Bill said, waving at it as they walked past. “I’ll m-miss y-y-you.”

“Aww, so emotional Bill!” Richie joked as they passed onto the second floor corridor.

“Y-you’ll m-m-miss it t-too.” Bill said stubbornly. Richie laughed but it sounded distant and Ben could tell Richie was just pushing his actual feelings down.

The turned to the opening of the staircase and Ben was suddenly hit by noise. There were, of course, students around Whitemore apart from classrooms and dorms all the time, but the final day had really smashed any records. The staircase was crowded with people, shouting and waving bags around. Classroom doors were open and Ben could see people moving in and out, talking loudly.

“Why do you think everyone’s gathered here?” Ben asked Bill and Richie. Richie shrugged.

“Ben, Bill!” A familiar voice called, and Ben turned to see Alyssa pushing her way through the crowd.

“My, my, who’s this?” Richie said loudly as she approached.

“Alyssa, you must know Richie.” Ben said. “He was project manager for the fete.”

“A-a-and has t-the b-b-biggest m-mouth for m-m-miles.” Bill added.

“Hey!” Richie said, mock slapping Bill.

“Hey.” Alyssa said to Richie. “I’m Alyssa, I was head of the Drama apartment, and helped a bit with the play Ben and Bill organised.”

Her hair was up in a loose bun and she looked energetic but also kind of sad. Ben remembered, suddenly, that Alyssa was in Fifth form, making it her last day ever at Whitemore.

“Can you guys sign my shirt?” She said, lifting up a bundle of white in her hands. “It’s Whitemore tradition.”

“Of course!” Ben said.

Alyssa held it againts the closest wall and Ben found a gap in all the colourful names on her shirt, signing a blocky name in deep blue. Bill and Richie signed too, and Alyssa gave them a big smile.

“Thanks.” She said. “I don’t ever want to forget this place.”

She gave them a quick wave then pushed through the crown, disappearing like she’d never even been there.

Bev’s words from earlier floated back to Ben, about how many other students had walked through the halls of Whitemore and were now gone. They were nothing more than ghosts, shadows of the last. But only to the school.

Because Ben would always carry a piece of Whitemore in him.

 

**Bill Denbrough, in North’s dormitory a few minutes before everyone has to leave**

“Fuck shit fuck shit I’m gonna forget something I’m gonna forget something really important and I’m gonna be homeless-“ Eddie paced around his packed suitcase, which was lying on the stripped beds.

“Eddie you’re not gonna forget anything.” Mike said calmly, sitting on his to zip it up.

“All we have is five little minutes and I know I’m gonna forget something which will take me five minutes to find!” He ignored, flying into the bathroom and clattering open cupboard doors.

“Matron will have a bird if she sees all those cupboards thrown open.” Ben huffed a weak laugh through his nose.

“F-f-five minutes? I-I-is that a-all we have?” Bill rubbed his forehead, sighing. Five minutes until he’d have to leave his first form dormitory for the last time and try not to fall down the stairs with all the luggage. He could barely walk down stairs without a heavy ass suitcase let alone with one.

“Jesus Eds how much have you got in their? Kitchen sink?” Richie walked over to Eddie’s case and picked it up, failing to hide his struggle.

“That’s physically impossible Rich!” Eddie retorted from his head inside the cupboard below the bathroom sink.

“Bill try hold this.” Richie beckoned Bill to come over.

“Th-th-think he’s g-got the f-f-f-fridge in h-here as w-well as the s-s-suh-sink.” Bill wobbled under the weight before chucking it back down on the bed.

“Fuck off will you?” Eddie re-entered the room with stress and annoyance hanging over him.

“Mines like half the weight of that.” Richie easily held his suitcase above his head.

“M-m-mine too...” Bill pursed his lips together in conclusion.

“I swear my case was heavier than this when I arrived.” Stan was also wheeling about his case effortlessly. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Eddie asked quickly.

“Laundry.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“I kNEW IT! I knew I’d forget something!” Eddie yelled out in triumph.

“Right we have like four minutes let’s go guys.” Ben got up off his bed.

They made their way to Matron’s office, passing English classrooms, maths classrooms, geography classrooms, pretty much all of their classrooms in fact. Memories flashed behind his eyes; the glue or whatever it was had splashed down on Richie’s, Eddie’s, Greta’s and Stan’s heads and that’s when Bill found out Eddie’s vocal range, singing happy birthday to Blake and Mike mentioning how he hated birthdays, Bev apparently explaining that they were in south’s tower because her toilet had broken or something or other because of her ‘moon day’, and many more. And it was just gonna end so soon.

“Wow this brings back memories.” Richie said surprisingly seriously as they headed up the stairs that also led to the sick bay. “Don’t wanna revisit that night that’s for sure.”

“None of us do.” Stan said. Bill remembered the flames that lashed from the sick bay window. He remembered seeing Richie. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could compare to how scared and worried Bill was for his friend in that moment. He shook his head, shaking the memory out of his thoughts. That was something that hadn’t been so great at Whitemore.

Mike knocked on Matron’s door and waited for about two seconds before it opened rapidly.

“Wondered if you’d forget.” She said gravely, a grin spreading on her lips. She turned back to her office and collected a pile of neatly folded cloths. “They aren’t in order so you’ll have to sort through whose is whose- and fast since you now have under three minutes.” Bill and Mike took half the clothes each and they all sped back to north tower once again.

“Right.” Stan clicked his knuckles and started to go through the clothes. “Bill. Richie. Richie. Eddie. Stan. Bill. Bill. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. Ed- these are all Eddie’s,” he chucked clothes at Eddie’s direction rapidly, Eddie missing almost all of them. “Bill. Richie. Richie. Stan. Mike. Ben. Mike. Ben. Mike. Mike. Aaaaaand Ben.”

“Imagine Bill saying all that at that speed.” Richie laughed will zipping up his suitcase, dodging a flying slipper that was thrown by Bill. “Ohhh so that’s where my other slipper went.”

Finally, the boys all met up with Bev and made their way down stairs and into the canteen.

“You alright guys? Got everything?” Bev asked cheerfully, smile not reaching anywhere close to her eyes.

“Don’t get Eddie started on that one.” Ben laughed and nudged Eddie.

“You o-o-oh-okay Bev?” Bill took her hand and laced their fingers together. She sighed and nodded.

“Everybody proceed to your form lines where your form tutor will take the register.” Mrs Wilson called from the front of the canteen. Bill looked around at the packed canteen. Suitcases where everywhere, people were crying, laughing, all emotions swung around the hall. They all shuffled into their lines.

“Right is Richie here this time?” Bev asked loudly.

“Tell me about it.” Richie replied grimly.

Soon enough they were instructed outside of Whitemore, everybody waving good bye to it. Bill swallowed heavily. He looked around at the losers and all of them looked as if they were on the verge of tears. They made their way to the train station and stood in the waiting area for the train to arrive, not being allowed on the platform until it actually arrived.

“Hey look, you can see Whitemore from here.” Ben pointed up the hill and there was Whitemore in all its glory, standing proudly with the sea reflected on its east side. The flags waved vigorously in the breeze and Bill almost let himself think they were waving goodbye...

“The train!” Chloe suddenly yelled. “It’s here!”

And there it was, steam coming up up from the front of its chimney and it’s doors opening. This was it. They were going home. Bill had survived his first year at Whitemore and he was going home. He leant his head on Mike’s shoulder and sighed. Mike rubbed his shoulder in reassurance.

“We’ll soon be back, buddy.” Mike said calmly and Bill smiled in thankfulness.

Mike was right. It wasn’t like they were leaving forever, they’d be back in like six weeks and Bill would be growing once again about algebra or language analysis. But now time felt like it was slipping again.

Slipping out of his reach... but no, he’d grasp it again. He’d grasp it and he’ll be back at Whitemore. Not long now.

 

 **Eddie Kaspbrak, heading to the train station**  
Eddie cared. He really did.

He thought he cared way too much. Everywhere he looked was just a painful reminder of what he was leaving behind. He saw the pool shimmering and the tennis courts sitting still. He saw the trees and mountains and he saw a home.

But he couldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to spend his last few minutes of his first year feeling sad. Sure, he’d miss Whitemore but that wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily. He’d miss it because he loved it, despite what he thought when he first arrived in September.

And he’d still love it when he came back after the summer.

“Everybody, please calm down!” Mrs Henderson called to her towers. The whole school was walking to the station close to Whitemore, teachers supervising them. Mrs Wilson had said goodbye outside of Whitemore, and now they had a five minute walk to board the train.

“God, I remember smoking on the way here.” Bev said, skipping next to Eddie.

“And I asked you for a cigarette.” Richie laughed.

“And I’d just ran out.” Bev grinned, dragging her hand through her messy hair. “Shit, that seems to long ago.”

“All I remember is being pissed with absolutely everyone.” Stan said, smiling in a way he only occasionally did. “I felt sure I’d be going back home at Christmas.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” Eddie said, turning around to face Stan. “What would Whitemore of done without their star swimmer?”

Stan looked at the ground and shook his head. “Man, I can’t believe it’s over all ready.”

Eddie smiled sadly and looked at his shoes. “Yeah, me either.”

All the Losers fell quiet for a moment, thinking of all the sleepovers and lessons, all the food they’d ate in the canteen and assemblies they’d had in hall. ‘You still have four years of that’, Eddie reminded himself. And for the first time, he let himself listen to it.

“You all have to write.” Ben said as they turned down onto a path.

“Of course.” Eddie said, although he doubted his mum would let him. He could find a way to send it though. If Whitemore had taught him one thing it was that you had to do things sometimes, even if there was a risk.

“You all need to visit the farm.” Mike said. “Delilah would love you.”

“D-d-delilah?” Bill said, looking at Mike with a stunned expression. “Who’s t-that, y-y-your g-girlfriend?”

“My sheep.”

Eddie laughed before he even realised it. It came out loud and sharp but it felt warm. And as the rest of the Losers laughed too, Eddie felt reassured, just slightly. Because he’d come back to Whitemore and he’d come back to the losers.

That was all he’d ever need.

“Okay, okay, please be quite!” A teacher called from the front and Eddie realised that they were at the station. Unlike the one where they’d all set off from in September, this one was just completely outside. He supposed it was only really children from Whitemore who used it, considering only one track came that way.

“Let’s all get a carriage together.” Richie whispered.

“Yeah, no shit.” Stan said, a final eye roll spared for Richie.

“When your form is called, please board the train.” The same teacher called, and students thinned out into form lines. Bev hopped into the line next to North, squishing between Chloe and Audra.

The train had came into the station minutes before, everyone cheering as they had watched it pull up to the platform from Whitemore. Eddie guessed it was the same one from their journey in September. It was long and bulky, and it reminded him off the train tracks in Derry he always used to visit when he was feeling lonely. He guessed he’d also be doing a lot of that over the summer too. But him and Bev had promised to meet whenever they could and Eddie was going to see that promise through.

“First years, South!” The teacher Eddie thought taught Top Year English called, and a line quickly made their way onto the train.

“First year, West!” She called again, and more students went on, carrying luggage over their heads.

“First year, East!” Bev’s line retreated onto the train, laughing loudly.

“First year, North.” Eddie followed Mike and Bill as they led North onto the train. Eddie stumbled up then followed as they entered onto their carriage.

He turned back as he pushed through onto the train and saw the Top Years. Many were clutching cameras and wearing their signed shirts, highlighting the students that were leaving. Some where talking to teachers, wiping away tears and laughing.

Four years.

“I’ll probably chain myself to the wall on my last day.” Eddie said as he walked past the compartments.

“Matron will have to cut you down.” Ben joked, shimmering past one of the trains small windows.

“B-b-bev!” Bill said from the front, coming to a stop. Mike crashed into him, and Richie crashed into Mike, and it was a big domino effect that took the wind out of Eddie.

“Fuck Bill, a warning next time?” Mike said, straightening his back.

Bill slid the compartment door open and the rest of the losers followed in. Bev was sitting on the red seat, her bag next to her.

“Won’t be lonely this time.” She said meekly, and Ben gave a small laugh.

The compartments on the train were exactly as Eddie remembered them; it was quite small, with a long, red seat on either side. There was a widow with curtains drawn back and racks above the seats to put luggage.

Stan slid the door shut and they all collapsed onto their seats. There was a rule of six per compartment but no way were the losers separating. This made Eddie feel oddly proud for about two seconds before Mike sat down on the end and Eddie was squished up.

In the end, Ben, Bev and Bill sat on the seats that would be moving backwards when the ride started and Stan, Mike, Eddie and Richie were on the opposite side. Eddie was pushed right up to Richie, and ended up shifting his leg onto Richie’s lap.

“Comfy there, Eds?” Richie said in a low voice, a genuine smile on his face.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Eddie sing-songed, though part of him knew he’d miss it.

Richie laughed and Bev started to hum a familiar tune.

The layout of the train consisted of five carriages, each with six compartments. It went up in years, the carriage futhest back belonging to First Formers and the front holding the Fifth formers.

The Losers bags were all piled up at their feet or on their laps and Ben, being next to the rack at the end of his seat, pushed his bag up. Bev stopped humming and started to sing in a gentle voice. Eddie realised she’d been humming Rocket Man. He smiled slightly and began to sing lowly too.

‘And I think It’s going to be a long, long time’

Stan shoved his bag into the rack too, joining in with the singing.

‘Till touch down brings me round again to find’

Mike passed Stan his bag to put up, and Bill handed Ben his. They started to sign too, and Eddie watched as Stan and Ben pushed their suitcases up, onto the rack.

‘I’m not the man they think I am at home’

Bev passed her bag along, and Eddie did too. The seven of them were all singing now, their voices all fitting together. They didn’t need to discuss it, and Eddie thought they could easily read each other’s minds. Like they were one.

‘Oh no no no I’m a rocket man’

Richie passed his bag to Eddie, who passed it along the line like some weird game of pass the parcel. Stan took it and heaved it on top, it just fitting.

‘Rocket man burning out his fuses up here alone’

Ben fiddled with his fingers; Stan had an absent, half smile on his face; Bill was moving his shoulders in time with their singing; Mike’s eyes were looking up with a dreamy look; Bev was swaying slightly in her seat and Richie was tapping his foot.

‘And I think I’m gonna be a long long time’

The train moved.

‘And I think I’m gonna be a long long time.’

A small cheer went out.

‘And I think I’m gonna be a long long time’

The green trees and mountains outside started to blur past. Eddie’s head was leaned on Richie’s shoulder, and he smelt of old cigarette smoke and bubble gum.

‘And I think I’m gonna be a long long time’

It was a perfect moment. Eddie knew none of them would probably mention it again, but they didn’t need to. It was a memory they’d die with, a memory that showed how close they’d grown in the past ten months.

Soulmates. That’s what Stan had said that night on the roof. Eddie believed that now.

They reached the last line just in time. A loud, excited voice was yelling from outside.

“What’s going on out there?” Mike asked in a strong voice.

“Dunno.” Stan said, unfitting himself from the seat and moving to the door. He slid it back and Eddie heard many footsteps.

“Guys!” Buffy said, skidding to their compartment door. “Come out, quick! You get to see the final view of Whitemore!”

The Losers quickly untangled themselves and squeezed out of the door. The other side of the train was lined with windows and Eddie saw that everyone from the First Year was out of their compartments and in the corridors, looking out the window. He saw Emily’s shiny hair and Blake’s fringe and briefly wondered if everyone in each carriage was looking out the windows too, desperate to see the final sight of Whitemore.

“We pass this mountain and then you see it for a moment.” Chloe said, moving next to Buffy.

Eddie wedged himself between Richie and Bev and looked out. He could almost feel the anticipation in the carriage. Suddenly, the train turned from behind the mountain and a large cheer rang out.

There was Whitemore. It looked small, like a model castle. It was perched on top of it’s hill that met the sea and Eddie could just make out the swimming pool. The sun was slowly sinking low behind it and Eddie was struck with the sudden urge to cry.

“There it is.” Bev said quietly. “Goodbye, dear Whitemore. We’ll see you soon.”

The towers gleamed in the dying light and all Eddie wanted to do was freeze the moment.

“We’re about to turn!” A South First Year yelled from a bit along the carriage. “Say goodbye!”

“Goodbye Whitemore!” All the First years cried at the same time. “Goodbye, goodbye!”

And just like that, the train turned and Whitemore slipped behind a mountain.

 

**Beverly Marsh, sitting in her train compartment with the rest of the losers**

“Richie do you ever stop bouncing your leg up and down?” Eddie asked in annoyance, Bev looked over and saw Eddie being jolted up and down and all over the place.

“You’re the one sitting on my knee.” Richie replied, going at least ten times faster than he was before Eddie had said anything about it.

“Oh god he’s gonna be sick.” Stan snorted, sitting the other side of them.

“At least breakfast was a couple of hours ago.” Bev said. It was crazy that just a few hours ago Mike had woken them all, well nearly all, up and went to the roof to see the sun rise. The same sun that was rising when Bev first arrived at Whitemore. The same sun that sent them to bed every evening and woke them up every morning, if it weren’t Patty’s alarm clock, which would introduce them to a whole new day.

Nothing was predictable at Whitemore. Not like Bev’s old school. You’d know 100% that every boring lesson would go by in the same way it always did or that someone would inevitably knock into and you’d drop your food or books and you’d be the blame for it. But Whitemore was different. Anything, literally anything, could happen on a day to day basis. A fire, a fete, roller skating in town, you name it. And that’s what Bev loved about Whitemore. No two days were the same.

But she wasn’t leaving Whitemore, she in fact cursed herself for being so weak about it all. She’d be back, they all would. Yes, her first year was over and only four were left but a lot can happen in four years. Good things and bad things. There had to be bad things to make the good things better. So there.

Bev leant her head on Bill’s shoulder. She’d be fine. She’s handled her home for thirteen years so another six weeks wasn’t going to change anything. She loved summer term anyway. Bev could go bike riding whenever she wanted and wherever she wanted. She could go to her local quarry and dive in there. She could even visit Eddie if his dragon of a mother would allow it. Bev no longer bothered asking her dad to go places, she knew the answer as if it were just tattooed on his forehead.

But enough about her home life. She wanted to make the most of the last hour or how ever long the journey was with the Losers Club.

“Actually, s-s-sp-speaking of b-b-b-breakfast, there must be a place we c-c-c-can buy f-f-food.” Bill gently removed Bev’s head off his shoulder and got up to the carriage door.

“A year in Mrs Foy’s class and you still can’t say a grammatically correct sentence.” Stan teased, getting flipped off by Bill.

“I could use some food that isn’t under cooked.” Eddie hopped off of Richie’s lap and stood by the carriage door.

“Eddie the canteen food wasn’t under cooked.” Mike said as they all got up and joined him.

“Yeah, Blake only got food poisoning ten times.” Eddie replied wittily, pushing open the door and leading the six down the hallway.

Stan opened his mouth to call out his exaggeration but Bev put her hand on his shoulder and shook her head, raising her eyebrows in amusement.

Each of them arrived at the little cafe section near the front of the steam train and ordered at least three chocolate bars each with the pocket they had left.

“Oh my god, remember when we all had like, eight of these for Mike’s birthday party midnight feast?” Bev stared sadly at the Toblerone in her hand.

“Wow that seems so long ago.” Ben sighed wistfully, making his way back to their carriage.

“W-w-wait, c-can we not go b-back to the c-ca-c-carriage yet? It’s so t-t-tight in th-there.” Bill groaned into his chocolate. “Beep b-beep, Richie.”

“What? I didn’t say anything!” Richie almost laughed in defence.

“Y-you were th-thinking it.”

“Well where do you wanna go then, Bill?” Stan asked.

“How l-l-long is this train?”

The next thing they knew, they were having races down along the train. Bev was honestly quite surprised nobody came out of their carriage to see what the racket was all about.

“Ben time how fast I can get down this train and back.” Richie bent down onto one knee and stretched as if he were about to do a hundred meter sprint, which, if Bev calculated correctly, he technically was.

“Gonna keep you’re glasses on?” Mike mused.

“Don’t wanna get a concussion now Mikey, lasted this long.” Richie cracked his knuckles and put his hands down by his foot in the position to bolt.

“Ok ready? Aaand,” Ben waited at his watch. “Go!”

Richie sped off down the hallway, ignoring the odd shake off the train as it heads down the railways at God knows how many miles per hour. He slammed into the wall and turned back round at lightening speed and Bev didn’t realise how loud she and Eddie were cheering until Greta came out of her carriage, smacking Richie in the side and knocking him down.

“Can you guys kindly shut the fuck up?” Greta smiled sarcastically, shutting the door loudly.

“Jesus.” Mike said in annoyance.

“Rich are you ok?” Eddie rushes over to Richie, hauling him upright off the floor.

“Peachy keen, jelly bean.” Richie winked at Eddie, Eddie pushing him and getting up.

Bev, undeniably would miss this. The teasing, the ‘banter’ as Brits call it, she’d miss all of it. She’d miss them. Bev has made real friends, who weren’t fake people, and she’d done it all by being herself.

“You were two minutes and twenty seconds.” Ben said.

“Take away the two minutes and i’ll be on my way!”

 

**Richie Tozier, about to leave the train**

Richie didn’t want to be here. Not when the train was slowing down and the platform was in sight and they were all collecting their luggage to go home. He wanted to be at Whitemore, reaching into his wardrobe for one of his slightly crumpled school shirts that he’d worn the previous day. Not reaching for his suitcase which meant; time to go home Richard! Time to say goodbye to your only friends for two months!

He knew he had to go home at some point. He knew that time would come when he’d have to stuff all his belongings into his suitcase and hop onto the screeching train, but he wished that the time didn’t come so quickly. He couldn’t believe he was thinking this but he’d happily slave away another few weeks of French lessons if it meant he could stay with the losers club.

To think he was actually debating to go home early from Whitemore. He wouldn’t last a day without them, which was why he was kind of worried about how he’d cope in the six weeks of summer.

He wouldn’t have his friends telling him not to do something because it’s actually too stupid even for Richie and he’d hurt himself beyond prepare. He wouldn’t have his friends to comfort him just by their presence being somewhat close to him. What if he saw somebody from his old school? What if he saw Luke? God help Luke if Richie even got within a a two mile radius of him.

“You ok Richie?” Mike smiled at Richie, putting a gentle arm around his shoulders.

“Yeah.” Richie sighed, letting his eyebrows relax, not even realising the were tensed. “Just six weeks Richie,” he whispered quietly to himself. “six weeks.”

The train suddenly jolted to a stop, Bill losing his balance and falling over Mike’s legs, being caught just in time by Ben.

“It was gonna happen to one of us.” Stan shrugged, helping Ben drag him up.

“Woah, guys, get in the queue.” Anne said as they went to walk out of the door. Mike peeked his head around the door and turned back into the room and shut the door.

“It may be a while before we get off.” Mike said. None of them could hide the faint relief from growing on their faces.

They sat back down again, squished, with Eddie once again sitting on Richie’s lap again. Richie sighed faintly, wrapping his arms loosely around Eddie’s torso. He waited for Eddie to unravel them, but he didn’t. Richie smiled.

“Well guys, this is like the long good bye.” Stan joked weakly.

“Kind of glad in a way.” Richie leant his head on Eddie’s back. “I really don’t wanna leave you guys.”

“Well,” Mike said cheerfully. “It’s only six weeks. And besides, it’s summer, it’s gonna be fun. And we’ll write to each other, maybe even call. It will go by in a flash.”

“I hope you’re right.” Bev replied gravely. She got up again and checked outside the door. “I think we should join the line now.”

They all dragged their heels out of the carriage and headed to the back of the line, Richie filtering to the back of it.

“Group hug before my mum comes?” Eddie asked meekly. They all swooped into a hug, the seven of them all tightly squeezed in the corridor. “I’m seriously gonna miss all of you.”

They moved forward slowly then stopped again. Richie suddenly heard a sniff. He didn’t know whether it was from him or Eddie at this point.

“Eds?” Richie placed his hand gently on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Richie I don’t want to go home.” Eddie whispered urgently.

“I know,” Richie pulled him into another hug. “I know, but it’s gonna be fine, ok? Write to me.”

“She’s not gonna let me.” Eddie sighed.

“She doesn’t need to know.” Richie pulled out of the hug and looked at Eddie and smiled a smile full of mischief.

“Thank you.” He whispered again.

“For what?”

“Everything you’ve done for me. For all of us.” Eddie explained, moving as the line moved further along.

“Why you are welcome Edwardo Spegardo-“

“Oh shut up Richard.” And without further notice, Eddie learned up on his toes, pressed his hand gently on Richie’s cheek and slightly prominent jawline and kissed his cheek.

It was like time had slowed down and Richie, if he was completely honest, didn’t want it to speed up again. Eddie smiled and turned back around to face the line ahead, baring in mind they were almost at the entrance of the train now.

For the first time in, well, forever, Richie couldn’t speak a word. It’s like his voice was unable to make a sound. A whistle suddenly sounded and the hypnosis suddenly broke.

Richie shook his head and smiled widely, then returned it to a smirk.

“Hey Eds,” he started.

“Yes?”

“Nice booty shorts.”

Eddie giggled. “Shut it jerk!”

 

 **Stan Uris, the train station**  
Stan powered through the crowds of kids, smiling to himself. The train had just pulled up to the station and already he’d lost sight of half the losers. He was half way off the train when him, Mike and Bev had actually remembered their luggage. Richie and Eddie had got there’s the last time Stan had seen them, Ben promised to wait for them and Bill had seemed to of vanished of the face of the earth.

“This one!” Bev called from ahead, slipping open the door to the compartment they had been sitting in for the journey. She stepped in and Stan and Mike followed.

“Wow.” Mike breathed when he was in. “This is really it, huh?”

“It really is it.” Stan said, grinning kindly at Mike. “For our first year, at least.”

Mike sighed and although Stan thought he would burst out into tears at any moment, he couldn’t help but smile. It was sad but he also felt mellow and pleasant, something he hadn’t expected to feel in the midst of all the chaos.

“I see Alison’s parents.” Bev called from their compartment window. She was kneeling on the chair and her hands were pressed to the window. “Gosh, her Dad looks just like her-“

“Come on.” Stan said, reaching up to the rack. “Before the train moves and we’re stuck on here.”

Bev turned around and dragged herself from the window. Her and Mike took their suitcases, Stan passing it to them, being the tallest.

He shifted his bag off last, stepping back to fully catch it. The rack was empty now, and the train had lost the excited atmosphere that Whitemore’s students had brought to it. Now it was just a train.

But in two months, Stan would be back. Back on the train, back to Whitemore. It wasn’t over.

“Come on.” Stan said, breaking the silence. “Let’s go.”

They all trudged out of their compartment, walking single-lined down the train’s corridors. Stan could hear the shrieks from the station and as he hopped off the train, he saw children running around the platform, enveloping others in hugs and talking to each other quickly.

Their parents had been informed to wait at the train station’s entrance, a large room with a tall dome ceiling, so the platform wouldn’t get too crowded. Students would leave the train and go find their parents. Except, the majority of students Stan was seeing weren’t actually making an effort to find their parents. Stan grinned; of course they’d rather spend a few last minutes with their friends before summer.

“You guys find them okay?” Ben asked, waiting near the train for them.

“Yep.” Bev said, shaking her suitcase.

“Good job Stan’s tall.” Mike joked, and punched Stan’s arm lightly.

Stan laughed and looked around the platform. “Where’s Bill?”

“Who knows.” Ben said, spearing a glance to the station. “Richie and Eddie went off somewhere, too. I think Eddie’s panicked about making his Mum wait too long.”

Bev sighed. “Poor Eddie.”

Stan and Mike glanced at each other. It was just like Bev; she had a massive heart but speared none of it for herself.

“Sure you don’t want to stay with my folk over the summer.” Stan asked Bev gently.

“Or mine.” Mike put in.

“Or you could stay with me.” Ben said, blushing slightly. “My Mum won’t mind.”

Bev turned and smiled at them, her cheeks radiant. “Thanks.” She said. “But I really can’t. I’ll be fine, though. Before I know it, summer will be over and I’ll be back with you Losers.”

Stan smiled and wished he could do more. Normally, he would of put up a bigger fight, but he knew Eddie would look after Bev. They’d have each other, if not proper parents, and maybe that was all they’d both need.

“Guys!” Ben said. He pointed a bit along the station and Stan saw Eddie speed walking along.

“Eddie!” Mike hollered. Eddie turned around and his whole face lit up.

“See you next year!” Stan cried, waving franticly.

“Don’t forget me!” Eddie called. Then, as an afterthought, he yelled. “And if you write make the envelopes look normal. You know my mum!”

Stan laughed and gave Eddie a final wave as he turned and vanished into the crowed.

He let his arm drop to his side, watching the many people hustle through the station, talking at the top of their voices. It really was coming to an end.

“Richie!” Bev said. Stan looked up and sure enough, Richie was walking towards them, a dazed expression on his face.

“What’s happened to you.” Mike said when Richie stopped next to them.

“Did you say goodbye to Eddie?” Ben asked.

“Yep.” Richie said, grinning widely.

He looked ready to burst out with something, and maybe he would have, but at that moment Bill came galloping over.

“There you are!” Bev said.

“I s-s-saw my M-m-m-mum.” Bill said happily. “S-she came.”

Stan wanted to hug Bill in that moment. For the whole of Whitemore, part of Bill had blamed himself for Georgie’s disappearance. And with his parents ignoring everything he did, that really just pushed Bill’s certainty that it was his fault. Stan remember Bill talking to him at the top of Whitemore Towers before Christmas. ‘Better times will come’ Bill had told Stan. And maybe, just maybe, better times were coming for Bill.

Stan still thought his parents were pricks, though.

“I should find my folk.” Mike said, craning his head over the crowds. “I’ll see you all in September.”

Mike patted Bev’s shoulder awkwardly and hugged Stan. His arms felt soft and warm and Stan suddenly felt the tears he’d been holding back.

“Bye, Mike.” Stan whispered and Mike broke apart.

“See you Losers!” He yelled as he ran through the platform, dodging people like he was playing a game of lacrosse.

Bev was twiddling her thumbs, looking out over the crowd. Bill must of noticed because he took them and smiled at her.

Just them, a kind faced woman with blond hair came over.

“Mum!” Ben cried, hugging her. Then he stepped back. “You’re not meant to be here! Parents are suppose to wait at the entrance!”

“Oops!” Ms Hanscom said. “I didn’t realise! Sorry I couldn’t get time off work to see your fete, Benny, it was just so busy! But I’m glad to have you back!”

Stan coughed lightly. “Hello.” He said pleasantly. “I’m Stan, one of Ben’s friends.”

“Oh yes!” Ben’s Mum said, looking kindly around. “How nice to meet you all! You must visit over summer, although our house isn’t much.”

“It’s fine.” Bev said gently.

Richie looked like he was about to crack a joke that could end either way, and Bill and Bev were smiling, and Ben was positively beaming at his Mother, and Stan decided it was a good time to find his parents.

“I’ll see you all.” Stan said. “Stay out of trouble, now.”

“Bye Stan!” Bev said, breaking apart from Bill to hug him. “I’ll miss you.”

“Keep strong.” Stan whispered into her coppery hair.

“Of course I will.” Bev said lightly, and her eyes seemed to shine with something when her and Stan broke apart.

“Till next time, Stan the Man.” Richie said, giving him a little salut.

“Yeah,” Stan said, feeling oddly choked. “Till next time.”

He turned and walked across the station, leaving his friends how he wanted them to stay: happy.

He kept his head up, walking past the crowd of students. His luggage bag gently hit his leg every time he stepped down but he didn’t care. The thumping of his heart seemed to be connecting with his eyes and he felt a overwhelming prickle he’d been trying to hold back. It really was over. That was it. The last time he’d see his friends.

“Until second year.” Stan muttered to himself, but it didn’t stop the stray tear rolling down his cheek.

He wiped it away furiously with the back of his hand and caught sight of two familiar faces at the entrance.

“Mum, Dad!” Stan cried, sprinting towards them, his suitcase flying behind him.

“Son!” Donald said, catching sight of Stan too.

Before he really had any time to process it, Stan ran into his parents arms. His Mother wrapped her arm around his shoulders and that warmth was enough to reassure him that he wasn’t leaving everything behind.

“How was it, Stan?” His Mum asked. Stan took a few steps back and grasped a firmer hold on his suitcase.

“The best year of my life.” He replied.

“Well, I bet you’re happy we sent you away.” His father said, his eyes twinkling behind his gold-rimmed spectacles.

“I mean, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Stan said.

“Of course we weren’t.” Donald said. He checked his watch quickly and looked up. “Let’s get out of here. How about we get a take away?”

Stan smiled and agreed immediately, and him and his Mum stepped off to the car park. But before Stan left, he look one final look around.

It was the first time he’d been anywhere but Whitemore for the last ten months. From when he met Mike on the tour to attending the swimming tryouts with Richie to slowly but surely getting closer and closer to the losers, all of that had happened at Whitemore. And now it was over. Curtains down.

The first split is the hardest, right? This time next year, he’d probably be skipping away with his parents, ready to sleep in his room for the six week holiday. And then, it would be off to the Third year. Then Fourth. Then Fifth.

But Stan didn’t need to think about the very end. It would come at some point, and when it came Stan could cry and cry about it. But for now, he had other things to think about. Like what kind of food he was going to order.

He turned back around and caught up with his parents, who were talking happily.

Before he knew it, he’d be back on the train for his second year. It could go completely wrong but Stan had a feeling it wouldn’t. Whitemore had a way of making every second feel like magic. And he knew he’d make the most of that.

So the station bustled with people and the wind outside picked up and as Stan Uris entered his car he couldn’t help but feel excited for the end of the summer holidays and his return to Whitemore.

And 3000 miles away, Whitemore awaited his return, too.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wipes away tear*  
> okay but thank you all so so so much, to everyone who commented, gave us a kudos, and to everyone who just read this fic, me (Emma) and Alice are eternitly grateful. Starting this fic wayyy back in September was a project for fun and it’s been part of our lives for the past eight months its hard to actually think it’s over.  
> BUT it’s not completely over. as said from the start, there are four more AUs coming, following the losers through each of their years through Whitemore. And yes, Reddie happens in the second year (the next fic). Me and Alice will have a few weeks off and then we’ll publish the first chapter for the second book, so keep a look out. I’ll link the first chapter here once it’s out and it will be added to the Whitemore seires on this dash. But for now, goodbye!


	30. !important!

the last chapter was the end of this fic BUT a new fic called “A School Like Whitemore: Second Year” is coming out in a few weeks. It’s based around the Losers second year at Whitemore, picking up from their old friendships and relationships (for example, Bill and Bev will still be dating, Eddie will still be out, etc). There are five fics in total, as there are five years at Whitemore, and all relationships tagged will have been introduced by the third fic at the lastest. I’ll make this into a seires so you can easily find the next AU when it’s out and i’ll link the first chapter in the comments when it’s published. But for now, goodbye!!

 

EDIT: Firts chapter for the next AU is now out!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315717

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... There it was! Please give us feedback or ask questions, we’ll try and reply as soon as we can!  
> Next chapter should hopefully be up soon!


End file.
